Double, Double, Toil and Trouble Part 2: The Making of Daniel Gregg
by B5Entilzha
Summary: Mortal once more, but with a few tricks up his sleeve, the Captain looks forward to marrying Carolyn and returning to Schooner Bay. Unfortunately, things are never that straightforward and someone seems to be determined to scupper their happiness.
1. Chapter 1

_A few notes for this one. The USS Hornet and crew as described in this story do not exist, but it's a Wasp Class ship (which does exist). There are plenty of images on the internet should anyone wish to look up where the events are taking place or to check the facts I ascribe to her. Today there are media areas rather than a cinema, but I assumed in 1991, without the internet we have today, that simply wasn't an option and an alternative would be provided. References to British food items either hard to come by or not good enough are down to experiences I had living in the northern US in the same time period. The wool store mentioned is real, but the cardigan they sell today isn't an exact match for the one in the show. I have never shopped there so no endorsement should be implied. The wedding dress is a description of a real, Civil War era dress I found on the internet that looked ideal for my purposes. The secret pockets in the Captain's uniform are based on the fact they existed in Union army officer's uniforms, as described. Murphy's is the Eire version of Guinness, and CO2 gassed beers will bite back if you don't treat them with respect (as described). I am absolutely NOT a seaman in any way, shape or form. Consequently, the events that take place in the storm had to be researched and there doesn't seem to be any consistency in people's opinion of how to deal with the conditions I described. I took sections from several different sites and hope I did not make any egregious errors. However, should the reader be rather more informed and see something that is utterly stupid, please let me know what it should say and I will correct it. I am also not American (as my spelling testifies), or a lawyer, so Claymore's claims as to his rights are almost certainly spurious under any state law, but this is Claymore we're talking about and he seems to make things up as he goes along. I ask the reader's indulgence on that one. If you've not read '_ Double, Double, Toil and Trouble' _you are going to find this one a bit confusing, so you might be well advised to check that one out before you read 'part two', which is what this is._

 _Characters you recognise belong to 20_ _th_ _Century Fox and R. A. Dick, others are mine and any similarity to persons, spirits, etc. living or dead are entirely coincidental._

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Daniel Gregg's insistence on 19th century protocol was going to drive Carolyn Muir out of her mind. Since he permanently took over the body of Sean Callahan – with the latter's blessing – he had danced with her, kissed her, swept her off her feet but stubbornly refused to share a bedroom with her until they were married.

"You know, things have changed since your day," she insisted as he paced the room. "It's the 1990's, not the 1860's. It's perfectly acceptable for a couple to sleep together before marriage. It's positively encouraged in some quarters to ensure physical compatibility."

He paused and stared at her. "Madam!"

"Carolyn, remember?" she answered with a smile, watching his reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair. "You can call me that, now."

His shoulders dropped and a rueful smile crossed his face. "Carolyn, I understand things have changed, but I have not. The only women who slept with men outside marriage in my day were ladies of the night. I cannot, I will not treat you as such."

"I'm not suggesting you do, just…relax a little."

"I am perfectly relaxed!" he insisted, the tension across his shoulders and in his voice belying his claim.

"Uh huh. Tell that to your face."

"There are certain things that are simply not done. They are…disrespectful." Folding his arms his seemed to think that ended the discussion. It didn't.

"Daniel, I promise, I would not feel disrespected in the slightest."

Shaking his head he returned to his pacing. "You seem to forget I have over 150 years of training and habit when it comes to how to treat a woman." He paused and rounded on her, leaning over the chair in which she sat. "Imagine if you suddenly found yourself in my time and had to behave as a lady then. Would you fare any better?"

She thought for a moment, remembering what she had read of how women of any standing above working class were mostly seen as ornaments to be revered, but denied their own opinions or rights to be heard. "No, I guess I wouldn't. Still, plenty of men weren't so stiff about it."

"I am NOT 'stiff'!"

"That could be taken in more than one way," she chuckled.

"Madam!"

"Why Captain," she said, turning to face him, "I believe you're blushing!"

"Why you… I don't…Women! Why do you have to be so… infernally female about it?!"

"I thought you liked female women?"

He threw his hands up in the air, completely at a loss.

"We can discuss this later," she placated, realising there was no point in continuing when he was in this mood. Finally getting a body hadn't improved his temper. She pointed to the paperwork on her desk.

Since the Captain and the spirits of the castle had managed to remove the ancient ghost that had caused murder and mayhem for hundreds of years, Carolyn and Daniel – the latter having to do so under the name of Sean Callahan – had been working to sort out the castle affairs so they could go back to Gull Cottage. An Taisce, the Irish National Trust, had been disbelieving when the Captain, as Sean, had telephoned and told them he wanted to sell the castle to them. When he had explained he was getting married and moving to America they had been thrilled and a representative had arrived the very next day. Today, another hurdle had to be overcome.

"He'll be here in an hour. How are you going to explain your sudden recovery?"

"A miracle?"

"He'll want to run tests and put you through the wringer."

Sean Callahan had been dying of cancer when Mrs Muir arrived less than a week before. Thanks to some magical intervention, the body was now free of it and looking twenty years younger, as well as holding a different occupant.

The Captain indicated his face. "This might take a bit of explaining, too. However…" He closed his eyes and focussed. In moments he transformed to the way Sean had looked when they first arrived.

Carolyn leapt to her feet. "Daniel, are you all right?"

Instantly he was restored to his former appearance. "Merely an illusion. I take it from your reaction, a convincing one."

She shuddered. "Horribly so." She placed her hand on his cheek, feeling the softness of his neatly trimmed beard. "I much prefer this face."

"As do I," he replied, his voice a gentle rumble as his fingers lightly brushed across her restored features. "You look just as I remember you when you first came to Gull Cottage. But," he continued in a firmer voice, "we had better accustom ourselves to a different look, at least until we can explain away our apparent youth."

He guided her to a floor length mirror that stood in the corner of the castle's master bedroom. While he wouldn't stay there overnight, now they were dealing with the day he had no more trouble occupying it than he did his cabin at Gull Cottage.

Putting his arm around her he pointed her to the mirror. "Remember, it's just an illusion. Inside we will still be ourselves, but we don't have to look exactly as we did. Some graceful ageing, perhaps?"

As she watched, their faces and bodies changed in the mirror, reflecting advancing years. It was somewhat disconcerting, but when she looked up at Daniel by her side his face remained the same as it always had. He smiled down at her. "We will see each other as we really are. The outside world as we wish to present ourselves."

"What about when we're apart? This is your power, not mine. Can you keep this up when we're not together?"

"I plan on being by your side for the rest of our lives," he assured her, gallantly.

"That's a lovely sentiment, Daniel, but I don't think you'll want to sit next to me at the hairdressers for an hour, or stand outside."

"I hadn't thought of that," he admitted, stroking his beard, "but no matter. So long as I will it, the illusion will remain provided we are within a reasonable distance of each other. Probably about 5 miles, perhaps more although I have yet to test it."

"I thought you said it was a strain?"

He waved his hand. "Not so bad. I've been practising. It seems it's like a muscle. The more you exercise it, the stronger it gets, and you know, I was the strongest man in New England and a very powerful spirit."

"A modest one, too," she grinned. "What about when you sleep?"

"There, I will admit, you have me. We will just have to ensure the door is locked so none can wander in and discover our secret." He indicated the mirror. "What do you think?"

She looked at their reflections. Greying hair and lined faces looked back at her. She put her head to one side, noting one difference. "The eyes. They still look young."

"The eyes are the windows of the soul. There is nothing I can do to change them."

"I think I've got fewer lines than I had when we first arrived."

"A minor liberty. Do you mind?"

She smiled. "No. I think we can get away with that."

He looked at his watch – a necessity he had never considered before, but the modern world didn't allow for the relaxed schedule he had adhered to in the past. "We had best go downstairs. I will admit, I'll be a lot happier when we get back to Gull Cottage. This castle is too big and there was a fierce draft in my bedroom last night."

"That was probably Sean or possibly Rowena trying to persuade you to drop your chivalrous 19th century mores."

"Another reason I cannot wait to leave," he replied, holding the door open for her. "At least back in Gull Cottage it will be just the two of us."

As they entered the Great Hall they saw a breakfast spread fit for a king. "What the…? **Sean**!"

The spirit in question materialised. "You bellowed?" he asked sweetly.

"What in blazes are you doing, man? The pill-roller will be here shortly. If he sees this he'll know something is up."

"Ya still have time." The Irishman replied calmly, "and Rowena worked hard. The least ya can do is thank her by enjoying it."

Rowena walked through the wall, shaking her head. "It was his idea, Captain, but he's right. We can watch out for the doctor while ye eat some breakfast. This can be cleared away in a second."

"Oh, Maria would love you," Carolyn replied, helping herself to coffee. She took a sip and sighed. "Rowena, this is the best cup of coffee I've ever had. How did you manage it?"

"Sean was quite particular when he was alive. There are beans and a machine in the kitchen."

"I'll have to grab some of those before we go."

The Captain had helped himself to a 'full English' breakfast, liberally enhanced with Worcestershire sauce. At the first mouthful he let loose a groan of delight. "Magnificent! Something else to add to your shopping list, my dear. Trying to get this," and he held up the bottle of _Lea and Perrins_ , "in America is next to impossible. I remember the first time I tasted it. I was in Liverpool in 1865. The war was over and the last Confederate ship, the CSS Shenandoah, had surrendered in those docks the day before. I knew when I returned home I'd be leaving the navy and was thinking about what I would do with my life. One taste of this and I knew a merchant ship, bringing the best of the old and new worlds together, would be my career."

Carolyn picked up the bottle and sniffed it. "What do you do with it? I mean, apart from drown your eggs and bacon?"

"Stews, meat pies, soups, any number of things. It should be in every pantry." He stuffed another forkful in his mouth, an expression of bliss on his face, then washed it down with a cup of tea. "And some decent tea. Why, in this age of international travel at the drop of a hat, the only tea you can get in America tastes like weak bilge water I have no idea."

"Well, once the sale goes through we'll have enough money to buy whatever you want. Sounds like we might have to invest in a shipping line!"

"Now that's not a bad idea," the Captain replied thoughtfully. "After all, I have to do something. Sean Callahan may be a writer in Ireland, but in America I have the feeling he might be changing his focus. One writer in the family is more than enough, and what I don't know about shipping you could fit into an oyster and still have room left for the pearl."

"What you know about shipping in the 19th century. Things have changed a bit," Carolyn observed, tucking into her own breakfast. "Besides, you're a very good writer."

"Thank you," he smiled, "but I have kept up with developments ever since that sorry excuse for a barnacle Blair put in an appearance in that motorised dinghy of his."

"It's certainly worth thinking about. But Captain, does this mean I'm going to be alone at Gull Cottage while you roam the seas again?" There was a wistful note in her voice.

He shook his head, quick to assuage her fear. "I think we may have our own yacht we can sail together, but my days of being gone from home for months at a time are long behind me. Don't forget, before I had little reason to come home. Sailing the high seas wasn't just my career, it was a distraction. Now I have every reason to stay ashore." He reached over and squeezed her hand.

"It's going to be strange, having money and a husband again. Not that we were that wealthy when Bobby was alive, but it was a lot more stable than the last twenty odd years."

"Some wise investments and Candy and Jonathan will be set for life… and, perhaps, our own child?"

She choked on her coffee. "Captain, we may be able to do it, but don't you think it would look strange if a post-menopausal woman suddenly gets pregnant?"

"Post meno-what?"

"I've passed the age of having children, Captain. There are limits, you know. I went through that last year."

"Yes, but now…" he waved his hand at her, indicating her restored youth.

"Watch out!" yelled Sean from his position floating by the main window that overlooked the drive. "The doctor's coming up to the gate."

In an instant the breakfast vanished and the table was cleared. In front of the Captain was a bowl of something unidentifiable. "What in blazes…?"

"That's all I could manage towards the end," Sean informed him, floating down to the ground. "Got to keep up appearances. Mind, if I were you, I wouldn't touch it."

The Captain sniffed the bowl and pulled a face, placing it firmly away from him. "I'm inclined to agree. And what is this?" he added, pointing to the contents of his cup.

"A wee dram to deal with the pain. The doctor doesn't approve but I always had it when he visited."

"At breakfast?"

Sean shrugged. "Pain doesn't go away according to the time of day."

The Captain opened the massive pill container that had also appeared, marked with days and times. "How many of these were you supposed to take?"

"They're all marked, but ya needn't worry. They look the same but I made sure they're nothing but sugar pills. The stuff I was on would kill ya." He stood next to the Captain as a loud rapping was heard at the door. "I was terrible for takin' them, so the doctor'll be surprised if you've done it before he arrives. Just make a show of it for him."

"Hmm. Carolyn?" Carolyn paused en route to the door. "I'll have to change and I know it disturbed you before. Perhaps you might want to stay outside until the doctor leaves."

"I thought you said we'd see each other as we really are."

"For the ageing, yes, but this is a whole body transformation. I won't fool a doctor unless I go all out."

"So long as you can restore yourself afterwards I'll manage. After all, I managed before."

"I saw you in your room when you first arrived. I know how it made you feel," he said softly.

Sean turned smartly. "Did I upset ya?" When she had to give an ashamed nod he shook his head. "I'm sorry, me darlin'. I'd forgotten how bad it was towards the end."

"I guess I wasn't ready for it. I'll be all right this time."

Another rap at the door and Carolyn went to answer it. Closing his eyes the Captain focussed deeply and morphed himself into Sean's cancer-ridden appearance. After a moment's thought he made some tweaks and then waited. When Carolyn walked in with the doctor she paused at the door, her face showing her struggle. He gave her a small smile and a wink and she recovered.

"Dr Carlisle here to see you, Sean."

"Thank ya, me darlin'," he smiled, easily switching accents. He turned to the doctor but, mindful of Sean's illness, kept his seat. "Doctor."

"Good morning, Sean. And how are you feeling today? Have you reconsidered my suggestion that you go into a hospice?"

"He wants ya to move to a care home," Sean said helpfully. "I told him to get lost."

The Captain narrowed his eyes at the doctor. "This castle is me home. I'm stayin'," he replied firmly. "In any case, I feel a wee bit better today."

"Cancer can do that, sometimes. Good days and bad days. We'll do your blood tests and see what the lab says, eh?" He eyed the cup. "I see you're still using your own medication rather than the ones prescribed."

"Can ya blame me?" he replied, picking up the cup and sipping. It was strong and quite rough for an Irish whiskey and the Captain had to fight not to choke on it. Luckily the resultant coughing fit was entirely appropriate for someone in his condition.

"All right, shirt off," the doctor said when the Captain had managed to calm his cough. He turned to Carolyn. "Could you leave us for a minute?"

"Of course. I'll be outside in the gardens D…dearest Sean."

The Captain gave her a subtle grin behind the doctor's back at her recovery and then waited until she'd left before undoing his shirt buttons.

"A charming lady. Is that the Carolyn Muir you told me about?" the doctor asked, beckoning to a couch at the side of the room.

"Aye, she's visiting from America." Removing his shirt with feigned difficulty, the Captain shuffled over to the couch, obeying the doctor's instructions to breathe in and out and then lying down as the man tapped and prodded.

"Hmm, the liver infection doesn't seem as bad as it was. Surprising, given the gut rot you're making it cope with."

"Told ya I was feelin' better."

"Let's take some blood and check. Hold out your arm." While the doctor rummaged in his bag for the appropriate needles and containers, the Captain peered at Sean who held out his left arm, palm upwards and pointed to the inside of his elbow. He promptly followed suit. The doctor fitted a strap and tightened it, then tapped a few times where Sean had indicated. "Hmm. Interesting. The veins seem to have repaired themselves rather better than usual."

Sean slapped his forehead and the Captain shrugged. "As I said…"

"You're feeling better. I know." He removed the protective cover from the syringe's needle and positioned it. "Small pinprick," he said before pressing it home. "Got it first time. Won't take a minute." He swapped tubes until he had several filled with blood, then removed the needle and put some cotton wool on the spot. "Hold that there firmly while I put these away." The Captain rolled his eyes at the fuss over such a tiny hole, but did as he was told. Behind the doctor's back Sean pointed to the bottles with a questioning look. The Captain winked at him and shook his head. The doctor tore off some tape and put it over the cotton. "Leave that on there for at least an hour. Now, do you want a morphine injection to kill the pain?"

"No, not today. Maybe next time."

The doctor raised his eyebrows. "You really are feeling good today. Well, all right. I won't be back until next week when we get the results of the blood tests. Are you sure you can cope until then?"

"If I can't I can give you a call."

"You'll manage better if you take your medication. You can put your shirt back on. How's the rest of you? Waterworks OK?"

The Captain frowned and Sean chuckled. "He means can ya pee. Tell him yes."

"Yes, everything there is fine."

"And the other side? I remember the medication was causing some upset before."

The expression on the Captain's face was priceless and Sean struggled not to burst out laughing. "A dose of the runs. Nothin' ya can't cope with."

The Captain repeated Sean's comment with some distaste and the doctor nodded. "I'm afraid it's the price we pay for the medicine. Now, let's see you take those pills. I'll get some water from the kitchen. Don't drink any more of that rubbish! If you must use whiskey as a pain-reliever, the least you could do as a good Irishman is get something decent. I'll be right back."

Once the doctor was out of sight the Captain quickly did up his shirt and tucked it in, relocating himself to the table.

"What about the blood tests?" Sean asked.

"Miracle cures that happen over-night tend to cause problems. I toned down the results. I did some research knowing the doctor would be visiting. It's a good thing you managed to find your last tests. They will find a small but significant reduction in the markers."

"Sure, but you are a wiley one, Captain Gregg!" Sean said admiringly.

"Years of practice," the Captain replied, schooling his features when the doctor re-entered the room.

"Here you go. Down the hatch."

The Captain swallowed the mass of pills. "I should rattle," he commented.

"Everyone says that. Now," and Carlisle sat back, "how about in yourself? I imagine having Mrs Muir visiting has done you the power of good."

The Captain smiled easily. "She has," he agreed. "Having her around has made all the difference in the world."

"Isn't that the truth?" Sean commented.

"She seems quite taken with you."

"We've known each other a long time and collaborated on work. She did some extra research for me for the Great Ghost Gregg."

"Now there's a man I would have liked to meet, man or ghost. He sounds like quite a character in your book. Brave, fiercely protective, loyal, quite the charmer but honourable with it. We could do with more like him, 'though perhaps without the… what did you call them? Temper squalls? In any case, if it really is possible for people to carry on after they die, knowing that would be a great boon. I think it's the not-knowing what happens next that makes death so terrifying."

The Captain smiled, pleased with the doctor's assessment of his character. "All I can tell ya is the Great Ghost Gregg had a fine old time with me. Death holds no fear for me now."

"Good. That's good. Well, you've beaten the odds for so long now I hesitate to even make an educated guess. I'll know better once the blood tests come back. Who knows? Miracles do happen."

"Speaking of which…" the Captain began.

"Hmm?"

"Carolyn was telling me she was beyond childbearing age."

"How old is she?"

"Mid-fifties."

"Usually hits around that time, though some still get pregnant in their sixties. It's a strain on their body, of course, and most don't come to term. Why, were you planning on leaving a last-minute heir?" The doctor grinned. "I admire your positivity."

The Captain wasn't used to doctors like this. The pill-rollers and bone-saws of his day were arrogant and often ignorant, best avoided except in dire need. This man had detected all the clues the Captain had left for him in seconds, was quietly efficient, allowed for human frailty and took time to check on more than just the physical. If this was an example of how medicine had changed he might have to reassess his opinion of the profession.

"It's not impossible," the Captain replied, carefully. "Once you get the results back we can talk. If they're as good as I think they'll be, then I've a new life opening up for me."

"Oh?"

"I'm thinkin' of moving to America."

The doctor raised his eyebrows. "I'd hold hard on that for a bit. Medicine in America is a lot more expensive than it is over here. Right now you're covered by the National Health Service because you have cancer. Over there you'll have to pay for everything and these drugs," he tapped the pill box, "don't come cheap. I'm not going to dampen your mood, but you've been fighting this for two years. That you've lasted so long is a miracle in itself. At the start I'd've given you six months at the outside and you've blown that out of the water. Unfortunately, I must tell you that at this late stage the chances of recovery are practically non-existent. That's not to say miracles don't occur, but I wouldn't make any long-term plans just yet. Let's wait and see, eh?"

"Want some easy money?" Sean commented. "Ask him to put a bet on it."

"Mrs Muir said she'd gone out into the gardens, I believe?"

The Captain nodded, doing up his cuff. "Why?"

"Do you mind if I go and have a word with her? I take it she'll be staying here for a while?"

"So long as I'm here, she'll be here."

"If she's going to be looking after you she probably needs some guidance. She's not from round here, so I'll quickly cover the bases with her. I could still send you a nurse if you want?"

"No, I'm happy with Carolyn, thank you."

"All right. Can I leave my bag here?" When the Captain nodded the doctor headed out the back door.

"He's familiar with the place," the Captain observed to Sean once the door was closed.

"Been me doctor since before the cancer hit. We've taken many a walk in the grounds in the past."

"I wonder what he wants to say to Carolyn?"

"Mrs Muir!"

Carolyn turned to see the doctor walking smartly towards her. "Doctor? Is something wrong?" She felt panicked. Although she knew Daniel was just giving the appearance of severe illness, the doctor's hurry seemed to suggest something else had happened.

He smiled. "No, I just like to take the exercise where I can. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course."

Side by side they walked through the landscaped gardens.

"Unusual, you know, to have such extensive landscaping by such an old castle," he said by way of small talk.

"I gather it was the previous owner. I think he must have had quite the romantic streak," Carolyn replied.

"Hmm, not that I'm complaining. Many a time I've walked here with Sean. Rather relaxing."

She nodded and waited. When the doctor seemed disinclined to continue she prodded him. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes, I'm just having a hard time deciding how to say it."

"Straight out tends to work best, in my experience."

"Very well. You know he's dying?"

"So he told me."

"And you know lung cancer is a particularly nasty one?" She nodded, wondering where he was going with this. "He seems utterly convinced he'll be moving to America."

"Well, it's all right to let him dream, isn't it?"

"Perhaps, but the let down when things don't go well can be devastating. What I'm saying is you might want to put the brakes on him a bit."

She turned to him. "Doctor Carlisle, I've known Sean for over twenty years. In all that time I've never known anyone to 'put the brakes on him' as you put it." That was true. Substitute Daniel for Sean and the doctor didn't know how true.

"I'm concerned there might be a relapse."

"Well, if it happens, it happens. We'll deal with it if it comes."

"I must say, you're remarkably sanguine. Most people are in rather more of a state when someone they care about is close to dying."

"Don't think I don't care, doctor, it's just I have a feeling things aren't quite as bad as you believe."

"Mrs Muir…"

"Doctor Carlisle, I appreciate your concern, really I do, but how about we wait for the tests to come back? If things look bleak then we can discuss it, but over the last two weeks he has rallied in ways that are quite remarkable." Actually, it was more over the past five days, but she knew the doctor hadn't seen Sean for two weeks so she stretched the point.

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you have some kind of magic wand? I will admit he does seem better, but cancer can be funny that way. Apparent recovery can be followed by a relapse that hits twice as hard."

"I know." She'd seen what had happened to Martha. The whole idea of a similar disease taking Daniel was unbearable. "I lost a very dear friend to it."

"Are **you** all right?"

"I will be." _I'll be just fine when we can end this charade and get back to living._

"You know he asked about having children with you?"

She laughed. "Well, it's a positive mind-set, you have to give him that."

"I should point out that even if you've hit the menopause it's still possible to get pregnant for a while."

"Thanks for the warning. I'll keep it in mind." _Not that there's the slightest chance at the moment_ she added to herself.

"He obviously loves you, even if he doesn't say it. You have it within your power to make things easier for him. If you need any help with Sean…" He pulled out a leaflet and handed it to her, "these are the contact details for the hospital, doctors and emergency services." He pulled out a second one. "These are for you. People you can talk to if things get too much and you need to vent. They're good people, all of whom have had to deal with this personally at one time or another. They volunteer to help others and they can offer an understanding ear, a cup of tea or practical help if you need it." When she tried to wave it aside he pushed the leaflet into her hand. "They want to help. You don't have to feel guilty calling them. At least… keep it somewhere safe, just in case."

Carolyn felt a terrible fraud. She knew Daniel would be fine, while the people who used these services were facing a certain, painful end and without her awareness of the possibility of life after death. That others who had already dealt with this nightmare would offer their support and counsel, even though it would surely remind them constantly of what they had lost, said a lot for them. She felt tears welling up, not because of her situation but because of theirs.

The doctor, clearly accustomed to emotional roller coasters, pulled a packet of tissues from his pocket and handed them over.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"That's quite all right. It's to be expected." When she tried to hand the packet back he shook his head. "Keep them. I always carry spares."

She gave a half laugh. "I can imagine." Once she'd wiped her eyes a thought came to her. "You say they're volunteers. How is this financed? Even if they work for free there must be telephones, use of cars, leaflets like this..."

"Oh, lots of ways. Parish council support, charity boxes in the pubs and shops, bake sales and coffee mornings, standing on street corners, and in supermarkets when it's wet. We also get bequests from time to time. Unfortunately, for a lot of people, once their loved one has died they don't want to be reminded of it and they cut all ties."

"Well," she replied, clearing her throat. "That won't happen here, I promise you."

"Mrs Muir, that's not why I came out here today…"

"I know it wasn't," she replied quickly, "but I want you to know… We'll make sure there's some money sent to support you, whatever happens."

"Then that's very kind of you, but I won't expect it. The main thing is that you have the numbers. Day or night, if you need help, please call." He looked at his watch. "Now, I'd better get back. I'm afraid I have a few other patients who aren't feeling as good as Sean today and I'd best get to them."

"Of course. Go, please!"

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine, really. Go. They need you more than we do at the moment."

He patted her hand gently and headed back to the castle. A little while later she heard his car drive away. The Captain, now looking his old self, came out into the garden to find her. When he did she was sitting by the fountain, staring into the water, her make-up smeared from her tears.

"Carolyn? What's wrong?"

"I can't keep this up! Isn't there some way we can get this recovery over faster so we're not getting in these people's way? Dr Carlisle has two other patients to see and they ARE dying. He shouldn't have to come out here for you when we know you're going to be fine."

He quietly sat beside her. "My dear, I understand, truly I do, but think what would happen if I was suddenly well again. People would think a miracle had occurred and yes, it has, but not one that can be repeated. We can't give them false hope. Back in Schooner Bay thirty years ago I could have easily manipulated the memories of the town to forget certain things and none would be the wiser. Here, today, those blood samples will be sent off to a hospital somewhere, records are kept all over the place… I cannot change so much. If I could, believe me I would. I _am_ moving this as fast as I can. Any faster and we'll have people coming here looking for a cure we cannot provide. It would only cause them more pain at a time when that is the last thing they need."

She nodded. "I know, I know. I just… I feel we're taking advantage."

"Perhaps we can make it up to them when this is all over."

"I was thinking about that…" and she told him about the volunteers. Daniel listened, putting his arm around her when she found herself welling up again. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying. I'm one of the lucky ones."

"You're crying because you're a caring and compassionate woman who can put herself easily in someone else's shoes. And because you have been through this, with Martha."

She grunted, the tears coming heavily now as she remembered her housekeeper, friend and ally. Daniel held her tightly, quietly supporting her until she had vented. She'd gone through all the tissues in the packet by the end and was still sniffing.

"For goodness sake, look at me. This is ridiculous. I haven't even got any tissues left!"

"Then it's a good thing I carry a spare handkerchief," and he handed it to her.

She blew her nose and then laughed. "Did you do that before?"

"Would have been of little use. Spectral handkerchiefs only work for other spirits and we are not prone to tears."

"Did you never cry as a spirit?"

"I did, once or twice. Mostly I vented through anger. The important thing is to get the emotion out, and tears are less likely to hurt others. I was not so considerate as you."

"It's easier to get mad."

"Aye, it is that." When she'd sorted herself out he stood and offered his hand to help her to her feet.

"I'm younger than I look, you know. I can stand up."

"My dear, you look beautiful, and I was merely being a gentleman. As for the other thing," he added as they walked, his arm across her shoulders and hers around his waist, "I agree with you. With the money from the castle there'll be plenty left over to support that worthy cause. However, I suggest we do it anonymously."

"I want Dr Carlisle to know I didn't break my promise."

"Then we will tell him, but no one else."

A week later, when the doctor returned delighted to report the tests showed some remission, the Captain merely smiled and said, "I told ya so."

"Whatever it is you're doing, keep it up."

The Captain patted Carolyn's hand where it rested on his shoulder. "I intend to."

"Mrs Muir, you're a wonder."

"I keep tellin' her that," he agreed.

Carolyn demurred. "Sean's doing all the hard work. I just hold his hand."

Doctor Carlisle looked Sean up and down. "And you look even better still. I know we only did a blood test last week, but would you mind if we did another one?" When the Captain frowned he added, "At the very least it will allow us to confirm the previous results. I'm sure they're correct – just looking at you is proof enough of that – but it never hurts to check."

With a shrug the Captain rolled up his sleeve and as the doctor grabbed stuff from his bag he focussed internally, making a few more minor tweaks to ensure a steady improvement was recorded.

This went on for another five weeks until the doctor announced he was in full remission. This time the Captain had greeted Doctor Carlisle outside the wicket gate and he clapped him on the back as the doctor read off the results.

"Told ya! So, d'ya think movin' to America is now acceptable?" He waved at Carolyn who had pulled up after the doctor from a food shopping trip.

Carlisle shook his head in wonder. "Sean, seems to me you can do whatever you want. So, when's the happy day?" he added, watching Carolyn as she collected bags from the car and headed towards them. The Captain stepped forward to help.

"The sooner the better!" Carolyn replied, having heard that last comment. Putting the shopping bags on the ground she linked her arm through her fiancé's. "This old-fashioned idiot is determined there'll be no extra-curricular activities until we're properly married."

The doctor looked at the Captain in shock. "Sean? This must be serious. You never needed a piece of paper before, as I recall."

The Captain cleared his throat. "There's a difference between temporary company and the person you want to spend the rest of your life with," he insisted gruffly.

"Now _Sean_ ," she said, the slight emphasis on the name a reminder to the Captain of who he was supposed to be and to stay in character. "There's no need to feel uncomfortable. I know you've had many ladies in your past." That went for both Sean and the Captain as she well knew. "I'm just glad I'm the last one!"

"In this life and for all that lies beyond, whether it be on the earth below or in heaven above, I neither want nor need any other but you," he whispered, his focus completely on her.

"Always the poet, Sean," the doctor observed with a grin. "So, will you be getting married here or in the States?"

"I've been thinkin' about that," the Captain replied. "It'll be a while yet before we can get all our affairs in order, and I will admit I'm as loathe to wait as my future wife." He turned to her. "Don't you think the children would enjoy a wedding at a real castle?"

"I'm sure they'd love it, but it's not going to be easy for Jonathan to get leave." At the doctor's curious look, she explained. "Jonathan, my son by my first marriage, is a Commander aboard a navy ship. I think he's presently in the Mediterranean."

"So long as he's not on manoeuvres I'm sure his Captain can be persuaded for so important an occasion… and I might be able to pull some strings there," the Captain replied.

"Oh?" the doctor said, curious. "I didn't know you had naval connections."

The Captain waved a dismissive hand, quickly fishing around for an explanation, "the Captain Gregg story attracted quite a bit of attention from seamen around the world."

"Nice catch," Carolyn muttered.

"Well, I hope I get to see the event."

"Doctor, of course you're invited," she quickly reassured. "We couldn't have it without you!"

"Isn't that the truth of it?" the Captain replied, winking at his fiancée. With that he collected the shopping bags and ushered them all into the Great Hall for some afternoon tea.

"Ya needn't worry yourself," Sean assured him after the doctor had left. "I'll make sure Jonathan gets here. From the sounds of things he's well on his way to the admiral's position."

"Oh no," the Captain said, shaking his head. "He's no pen-pusher. If the lad's any sense, once he gets his own command he'll stay there."

"But that will be his decision, Daniel, not yours," Carolyn insisted, giving him a sharp look.

"Of course."

"I called the church," she continued. "They're happy to accommodate us since you're a local. There's some paperwork I have to complete and the usual for both of us but there shouldn't be any problem."

"There'd better not be," the Captain growled, looking at Sean.

"It'll be smooth sailin', I guarantee it," the latter smiled. "You name the day and I'll get to work on getting ya son some shore leave."


	2. Chapter 2

When the Captain answered the rap on the door it was to find Candy standing outside, her face flushed.

"Is it true?!" she asked, breathlessly.

"Is what true, me darlin'?" the Captain replied, impersonating Sean.

"Mr Callahan?" she asked, deflating somewhat.

"What do you think?" he replied in his usual voice, and gave her a wink. As she watched, his face morphed into that of the ghost she knew.

"Oh, Captain!" She flung her arms around his neck, hugging him for all she was worth.

The Captain, laughing with her, twirled her around before setting her back on her feet. "I take it you're happy with the situation?"

"More than. It's a dream come true! Mom!" she cried as Carolyn appeared.

"Hello darling," Carolyn replied, returning the hug.

"Wow! You really do look amazing." As the Captain put his arm around Carolyn, Candy stood back and admired the couple. "Now that's just as it should be. Oh, I am so happy for you two. But how are you going to move back to Schooner Bay looking like that?"

The couple led her into the Great Hall before the Captain demonstrated how he could create the new, older look he'd perfected for them both.

"Oh, that is SO not fair! Even older you both look fantastic. You know, when I'm hitting my fifties you could do that for me, too, Captain."

"I'm afraid this is reserved just for us. A legacy of how we came by it, I think. Besides, you will continue to look beautiful no matter how old you are."

"You old charmer! So, when's Jonathan turning up?" she asked, looking to her mother.

"He should be here soon. I'm not quite sure how you managed it…" Carolyn began,

"I told Sean who to speak to in the spirit world," the Captain explained. "There are still some who owe me a favour."

"Well, he's got two week's leave so we'll have time to catch up before the wedding."

"Great!" Candy enthused. She looked up at the high, vaulted ceiling. "I finally get to see Callahan Castle. You've got to give me a tour."

"I can do that for ya, darlin'," Sean replied, materialising by the fireplace. "I know more about this castle now than I ever did when I was alive. Hello, Candy."

"Hello Mr Callahan."

"Ya can call me Sean."

"And I will help for those parts he does not yet know," Rowena added, appearing by his side, "and ye can call me Rowena."

"It's lovely to meet you, Rowena."

The Captain raised his eyebrow. "Sounds like a tour I'd like to attend as well. We can wait for Jonathan and do it all together."

When Jonathan arrived later that day he was as overjoyed as Candy at the Captain's new situation, if not more so. The two men delighted in each other's company, Jonathan happy to answer the endless questions his surrogate father had about life aboard a modern ship, and the Captain equally happy to answer Jonathan's queries regarding his restored mortality. Their conversation flowed back and forth while Sean and Rowena took them on a tour of the entire castle, pausing whenever their guides offered information, resuming as they walked from point to point. Bit by bit they were re-establishing their relationship and soon realised it was stronger than ever. When the Captain rested a fatherly hand on Jonathan's shoulder Carolyn found herself having to surreptitiously wipe a tear from her eye. This was how it always should have been.

All the mortal members of the party had questions and their guides proved more than capable, but when the Captain realised they were revealing all the castle's secrets he unconsciously braced himself for the moment they unveiled the entrance to the room that held Katriona's bones, breathing a sigh of relief when the tour came to an end without that particular skeleton being exposed. He gave a nod to Rowena who smiled easily and hung back as the others returned to the Great Hall.

"Katriona wants to stay for a wee while," she explained. "That room needs to be left 'til she be ready to go on."

"I understand," he replied. "What about Mr O'Grady?"

"He'll stay so long as she does. That will be his unfinished business."

He looked around. "Speaking of which, where are they? I haven't seen them around for the past few weeks. I feared they had passed over before I had a chance to bid them farewell."

"They stole a wee march on ye, Captain. They were on their honeymoon. They only got back yesterday and they've been stayin' out of the way while ya family settled in." Off his curious look she added, "It was a traditional hand-fasting ceremony."

"Sorry I missed it."

"Ye're not the only one!" she laughed. "Sean's been complainin' he'd never seen it done properly, but they were nay interested in makin' a fuss. Meself, Sarah and and the last of the older male spirits attended afore he moved on. It was all they wanted."

"In that case, I hope they will see our reception as theirs as well." With a parting nod he followed the others.

"This is one seriously cool place," Jonathan said, gazing up at the massive beams and high windows. "Are you sure you want to go back to Gull Cottage? How many people get to live in a castle?"

The Captain looked to Carolyn and then shook his head. "It's nice for a little while, but not on a permanent basis. Besides, everyone we know is back at Schooner Bay, and I did design and build that house myself. If we stay away that penny-pinching, conniving oaf Claymore will sell it from under us and I won't have that."

"Speaking of…" Candy said, sipping the mug of tea Rowena had provided her. "Does our old landlord know of your change of circumstances?"

The glint in the Captain's eye was unmistakeable. "Not yet. I'm rather looking forward to seeing his face when I walk into that shambles he calls an office."

"As Sean Callahan." It was more a statement than a question.

"Maybe for the first minute or so."

"So who's keeping him away while you're over here? If he walks in and finds Gull Cottage devoid of ghost…"

"I called on an old shipmate of mine. He's holding the fort while we are away. Maria is happy for the help and the bills are being paid, so Claymore has less reason to complain."

"I think that's called lulling someone into a false sense of security," Jonathan chuckled.

"Oh, I think he'll believe I'm much less dangerous as a human than as a spirit." With a wave of his hand he relocated the plate of cookies Jonathan had been reaching for. "How little he knows," he chuckled.

"Uh huh. And when are you dropping **that** bombshell on him?" Candy asked.

Carolyn touched the Captain's arm. "Perhaps we can save that for an emergency?"

He nodded. "Quite. No reason to show our hand unless forced."

"Sure would like to be a fly on the wall for that meeting," Candy grinned.

"Be assured you will get the full, in detail report when it's over," the Captain replied, nodding to Sean who had delivered a mug of tea to him and one of coffee to Carolyn.

"I might come over to watch that one," Sean added.

"Now Sean, can ye at least give these two a few weeks of peace and quiet for their honeymoon first?"

"Actually," Jonathan said, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat, "while it's up to you, I might be able to provide a rather unique honeymoon."

"Oh?" Carolyn asked.

"I had a word with my Captain. Seems he read mom's book about you, Captain, and Mr Callahan's book on the Great Ghost Gregg. He's more than happy to have you aboard as we sail back to New York."

"Landlubbers on a navy ship?" the Captain choked, outraged. "That's ridiculous!"

"Not really. The navy has been doing it for years. They call it Operation Tiger. It's a way for the families of navy men and women to find out about the lives of their loved ones aboard ship. Obviously, it can only happen when we're on peaceful operations and normally we do rather warmer climes like Hawaii to California, but he's willing to bend the rules a bit on this occasion because of who you are. It'll take just over a week if we don't hit any squalls. She can cross faster but since we're not on active manoeuvres there's no reason to waste fuel. You'd even be given a tour of the ship including the bridge, and as our purpose is amphibious landings there are helicopters and landing craft too. I'm sure one of the pilots could be persuaded to take you along when they do a sweep." Jonathan was tapping the table and looking anywhere but at his mother and adoptive father, but he knew the effect his words were having. Finally he looked them both square in the eye. "Of course, if you'd rather fly…"

Although a cruise across the Atlantic wouldn't have been Carolyn's first choice, the look of sheer delight on the Captain's face was enough to change her mind. She had rarely seen him so happy. Even so, he paused and looked to her.

"My dear? You know my feelings, but could you manage that long aboard ship?"

"These ships are rather more stable than the old sailing vessels, Daniel. I'm sure I'll be fine." She linked her arm with his. "And who could turn down a honeymoon cruise?"

"It's a working ship, my dear. I doubt we'll be that free."

"You'd be surprised," Jonathan replied. "Modern ships are pretty big. Mine is 40,500 tons displacement unloaded, just shy of 850 feet long with over a 100 foot beam and a 27 foot draft. She'll do 22 knots but for a journey like this she'll keep to 18." He smiled to himself. "She's not an aircraft carrier, but she's the next biggest ship afloat. There's plenty of space. We've even quarters big enough for two."

The Captain shook his head as he took in the numbers. "When I was in the navy, the biggest warships were just over 200 feet long, under 40 foot in the beam and their draft was just under 9 foot. Fastest they could go was 9 knots assuming a good wind and they only had a 1,240 ton displacement. I knew things had changed but it's hard to imagine those numbers. To walk the decks of such a ship…" His eyes were bright and Carolyn smiled.

"Looks like you've got us all the way back to the States, Jonathan. Are you sure you want us for that long?"

"I'll be on duty a lot of the time, and there'll be occasions you don't want to see me, I'm sure."

"On their honeymoon?" Candy chuckled. "I hope so!"

Carolyn playfully swatted her daughter, but it was the look on the Captain's face that filled her with joy. She gave a tug on his arm. "Just remember you're too old to re-enlist and I want my husband back at the end of this."

The Captain nodded, but he couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

"Consider it my wedding present to you both."

"And a fine one it is, lad. A very fine one indeed!"

Candy pouted. "Way to go, little brother. How am I supposed to top that?"

Carolyn shook her head. "You're here, both of you. That's the best wedding present either of us could have."

"Hmm. Still, I'll think of something. Now… what happened to the other spirits who were here? Have they moved on?"

The Captain shook his head, still trying to shift his mind's eye off the images Jonathan's easy recitation of dimensions had evoked. "They said they'll still be here for the wedding. After that…" he shrugged. "Some doubtless have some unfinished business. The wedding will mark the end of that for quite a few, I'll wager."

"Sean and I are stayin'," Rowena provided. "There is so much I have yet t'see in this world and he's promised to show it to me, but the castle will still be our home."

"Aye," the Irishman agreed. "Now the old ghost Callahan is gone it's a lovely place, and the new ghost Callahan wants to keep it that way. We'll watch over it, for a while at least."

"Good to know it will be in safe hands," the Captain averred, looking straight at Rowena. When Sean started to bluster she calmly took his arm and led him away.

"She's good for him," Carolyn mused as she watched them walk to the end of the Great Hall and disappear through the wall. "Now, explain to me why our wedding would close the unfinished business rather than the disappearance of Callahan the first."

"It's not set in stone, so I cannot speak for all of them, and some have moved on. The Edwardian owner, for one. Haven't seen him around since our little friend finished ghost Callahan off. I think after they saw what happened when I touched you, they felt it had to finish a certain way and will not rest until that is done." He shrugged. "Of course, it could be any number of other things as well." _Such as bones that need to be properly interred when they're ready to move on..._ "Do you mind them attending?"

"Of course not! I was just curious. We came in rather late in the day so I couldn't understand why our happiness should affect them."

"So, _dad_ ," Candy said, smiling at the Captain's shocked expression. "You've been my de facto dad for years. It'll be nice to be able to call you that officially – that is, if it's OK with you?" She suddenly sounded uncertain.

"OK? I am honoured and delighted, but it is not a requirement."

"Thanks, sis. I was wondering how to bring that up. So, is it OK for me to call you that too?" Jonathan added. His years at sea and the demands of his position had toned down his youthful enthusiasm, but there was an eagerness in him that made the Captain's heart swell with pride.

"If you want to I can only say I could not ask for two finer children… even though you are hardly children now. I will admit I have regarded you as my own for many years, although I would not dishonour your father's memory by saying so aloud, and I did not wish to make you feel you had any duties to me. But if you feel that way too..." His voice was growing gruff with emotion.

That was all the encouragement Jonathan and Candy needed. In an instant both had surrounded him to give him a hug. He returned it with equal strength, looking in wonder at Carolyn.

"Don't look at me. I had no idea they were going to do this. It's their idea."

"And are you…?"

"Candy's right. You've been a father to my children for more years than their own was. I'd say that's a title hard earned."

Still somewhat flabbergasted by the generosity he was being shown, the Captain could only smile in wonder and delight. Finally the children pulled back and Candy said, "So, as I was saying dad, can you tell us the full story now? Beyond the basics I'm still not entirely sure what happened here."

"And you're the best storyteller I know," Jonathan added, "So if anyone can do it justice…"

"Hey! What am I?" Carolyn pouted.

"Mom, you're a brilliant writer, but you've got to admit, dad can spin a yarn like no one else."

She chuckled. "True."

By the time the Captain had told the entire story, which was fantastical enough to need no embellishment, Candy was having to fight yawns – not because the story wasn't exciting but because the journey over had finally caught up with her.

"Sorry. Jet lag. I think I'm gonna have to call it quits for the night. Never could sleep on planes."

The Captain looked at his watch and was surprised to see how late it was. "I think that goes for all of us. Will you two be all right getting to your rooms? I want to do my rounds before I bed down."

"Sure," Jonathan replied. "It's a lot less complicated than aboard my ship. Candy?"

"Easy. Through that door, up the steps, down the hall and the second on the right, right?"

At Carolyn's nod Jonathan set off. Candy hung back a little and then gave the Captain another hug. As she pulled back she kissed him on the cheek and said, "Love you, dad," before setting off after her brother.

The Captain gazed after them in silence until Carolyn came up alongside him. Looking up at his face she saw there was a tear running down his cheek.

"Daniel? Are you all right?"

He nodded but apparently was struggling with words. Finally he drew a breath. "For over one hundred years I thought I didn't need a family. I couldn't understand why any man would want to tie himself down with a wife and children. Now…" He shook his head. "I cannot imagine my life without all of you in it, and I don't want to."

"Neither can I," she assured him. "Now, if you're determined to stay in the guest room and freeze to death, rather than joining us in the 20th century, let's make sure the place is all locked up and have a glass or two of some of that rather fine wine I saw in the cellar before we go to our separate beds."

"I will not deny I am finding my honour sorely tested, but I stand by what I said."

She shook her head. "Impossible man!" she grumbled, but it was said with more affection than frustration.

"Also fabulous, handsome, inspiring, brave…"

"And so modest," she laughed, giving him a playful smack.

"Of course."

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Carolyn had gone to bed several hours before, but the Captain found himself wide awake, staring at the ceiling. The draft he'd more or less resolved through additional blankets both on the bed and stuffed at the foot of the door and every possible ingress (although new ones seemed to pop up with alarming regularity), but still he couldn't sleep. Eventually he gave up, pulled on trousers, boots and turtle neck and quietly opened his door to walk to the Great Hall. The huge, vaulted space was silent, bar the crackling sounds of a small fire which was safely banked. He strolled over and put another log on it, poking it briefly, and then sat down in one of the armchairs to stare at the flames.

He was getting married. He, Daniel Gregg, who had eschewed marriage for over a hundred years, called marriage-minded women a curse and dismissed the institution as something for landlubbers and men who didn't have a real life. What was he thinking? Had his time as a spirit finally sucked the life out of him? Yet the Christmas dream he had given his family so many years ago had been set on the eve of his wedding, so clearly he wasn't averse when it was with the right woman. His eyes were drawn upwards to where he knew Carolyn slept peacefully. Yes, he certainly had the right woman. Fiery, feminine, smart, elegant, loving, fun... who knew so many qualities he valued could ever exist in one woman?

He sat back, his hands hanging off the end of the armrests, and smiled. He'd known he'd met his match from the first day she had arrived at Gull Cottage, but over the past twenty-two years they had grown so much closer, married in all but name. She was there for him when he sought understanding of this modern world that often confused him. He supported her whenever anyone threatened their peace and quiet tranquillity. He had helped her with her books, she had helped him to realise his dreams: the seaman's home; his own name cleared of suicide (and a consequent reinterment of his remains in the churchyard with a proper headstone that had been slightly uncomfortable to witness); some of his stories published so that others knew what a debt they owed to the seamen of the world... They made a good team. Yes, they matched tempers too, and he doubted things would always be smooth sailing, but they'd weathered many squalls in the past and he had no doubt they would continue to do so.

Twenty-two years. Had to be the longest courtship in history! If they didn't know each other by now they never would. She the caffeine addict and workaholic, dedicated to her writing and her family. He the...what? A seaman who hadn't been aboard ship for over a century? A man who'd only acquired a body a couple of months ago? A being of the 19th century who had to come to terms with living in the 20th and, soon, the 21st? What was he? What did she see in him? She could have her pick of men and yes, he'd scared away many a suitor in the past, but now she could walk away and she chose to stay. Was she merely settling because she was getting too old to find an appropriate suitor? Was it because only with him could she hide her new, younger status? She could always move and start a new life somewhere no one knew her. She'd have the pick of the bunch then.

He sighed. He knew she loved Gull Cottage and wouldn't leave there, but if it meant she could find a man of the modern age who could give her a good life? Of course, with the sale of the castle, contents and grounds, plus the substantial amount Sean had somehow managed to squirrel away over the years he was, in modern parlance, loaded. She would want for nothing, he would make sure of that, but he also knew that wasn't the reason she had accepted his proposal. She loved him, yet he had to admit, putting his ego aside for a moment, he was far from an ideal catch. Old fashioned, out of date, no career. He'd have to find something to do or he had no doubt she'd quickly tire of him being underfoot. His old activities were ways to pass the time, not necessary or of much real value. With modern technology sea-charts were a thing of the past, the house didn't really need guarding, yes he could read for hours, but that was hardly an activity that would contribute to their life together, even if he relished it. He would need to find something to do, something that would make her proud of him, give him a purpose in life and make them equal partners rather than just the writer and her husband.

He was still contemplating all this when Katriona walked in on him. "Welcome home," he smiled, "and congratulations."

"Thank ye." She watched the way his face settled back into the somewhat gloomy one that had alerted her he might need a willing ear. "Ye be up late, Captain," she observed, sitting in the chair opposite.

"Couldn't sleep," he admitted, then added with a growl, "Couldn't have slept even if someone had laid off with the winds in my room."

"Not me," Katriona assured him.

"Hmm." He lapsed back into silence.

"Will ye speak as to what's botherin' ye? Perhaps I can help?"

He considered her for a moment. Normally he would keep his doubts to himself – it didn't do for a Captain to admit to the crew he felt unsure, even, or perhaps especially, when he did – but she was not his crew and, appearances to the contrary notwithstanding, she was old enough to be his many times removed great-grandmother. In the absence of his mother or other matriarch perhaps Katriona was just the person he needed to talk to? "I was just thinking about marriage and the future."

She cocked her head, observing his body-language. "She loves ye dearly, ye do know that?" she said, cutting immediately to the core of the problem and proving to him she had the wisdom he sought.

"As I love her... more than I thought possible."

"So?" she encouraged, looking up. There, at the top of the stairs, was Carolyn, quietly listening. Katriona gave her a small nod but kept their eavesdropper's presence to herself. It would do them both good to hear this.

The Captain was staring at the fire, unaware of the exchange. "I would ask, why does she love me, but I might as well ask why I love her. Love has no explanation, it merely is. Nevertheless, I find myself wondering, given my peculiar circumstances, whether she could not find a more suitable partner."

"Ahh, is that all?" she chuckled. He looked up sharply. "As ye say, love has no explanation and it cannae be forced. When ye find the woman of ya dreams, or man for that matter, I think the best thing to do is be grateful for it. There be many who never find their _a ghrá geal_." She lapsed into her Gaelic heritage, the words dropping musically from her lips.

"Their what?"

"In English that would be 'soul mate', 'though the true translation is 'bright love'. The one ye were destined to be with for the rest o' ya days. That person ye cannot bear to imagine not bein' there for ye to hold and care for."

Quietly, Carolyn descended the stairs.

He nodded. "Yes, that's it. That is exactly what Carolyn is to me."

"And ye to her, I promise ye. Just watchin' ye since ye came here has made that plain to a blind man. The way ye look at each other, know what the other is thinkin', protect and care for each other. She wouldnae mind if ye were a beggar, she'd still follow ye to the ends o' the earth. Dinnae question what God has wrought, just be grateful He has."

"Oh, I am. More grateful than I can put into words. Even so, should she find another who truly understands her and is of this time, I would feel it only right to step aside. She deserves better than I can offer."

Lost in his contemplation of the flames he was unaware of Carolyn's arrival until she placed a gentle hand on his arm. "So eager to be rid of me, Daniel?"

He jumped slightly and turned as Katriona gave Carolyn a wink and vanished. "What? Hardly!" He looked to where Katriona had been and frowned. "You weren't supposed to hear that!" he grumbled, well aware his alpha male status had been compromised by a gang of women.

"But I'm glad I did." She walked around the wing-backed armchair and sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I have the only man I could ever want in my arms right now. A man who is honest, courageous, loyal and loving. Someone who knows what I'm really like and still wants to marry me. Someone who was ready to die to protect me. Honestly, Daniel, what woman is ever going to turn down such a man?"

He smiled, his pride somewhat restored, and put his arms around her waist. "To protect you, my dear, I would beard the devil himself in his own lair."

She kissed him lightly on his forehead. "I think you did," she whispered before bending to capture his lips.

When they parted he looked at her, his eyes roving her features. "Are you sure you have made the right decision?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life, and I don't want to hear you questioning it ever again. Understood?"

He grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

They remained in front of the fire, doing nothing more than kissing and talking quietly for some time.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Just over a week later the local parish church was packed. Captain Gregg was rather put out by the number of women with tears in their eyes gazing at him and he gave Sean – who, together with Rowena, was standing nearby – a sharp look.

"I was hardly a monk!" he defended.

"From what I can see you were a Casanova!" The Captain growled quietly. "It's a good thing for you Carolyn saw through your charms or I would have killed you myself. Please tell me you were at least careful?"

"Always."

He raised his eyes heavenwards. "For this relief, much thanks."

In addition to the women and their respective partners, whom Sean had insisted had to be there or they would risk offending half the town, the rest of the guests on the groom's side included the local pub landlord and his wife (also at Sean's insistence), Doctor Carlisle and his wife, Beth, and people from the Cancer Support Group from the local town. On the bride's side Brad and Emily sat with Candy, Harriet and Hazel and Seamus and Katherine were also there, chatting happily. While Carolyn had extended an invitation to the Muirs, they had insisted there was no need. Instead they sent a wedding gift and their blessing, assuring them they would visit at some point once they returned to Schooner Bay. Carolyn was sorry Marjorie wasn't there, but it was a relief not to have to deal with Ralph. This would have made a relatively small wedding party were it not for the fact the church was filled by spirits, eager to celebrate with the couple who had freed them. Katriona and Daniel O'Grady were standing just in front of the first pew on the Bride's side to even up the numbers, smiling and chatting with Sarah and a few of the other spirits. Others had occupied the remaining pews or were floating around. While the Captain could see them and, he assumed, Seamus and his fiancée and his own closest family, none of the others were aware of the extra guests.

In order to allow the Captain his preferred mode of dress, the wedding had been given a 19th century theme, with Civil War era hooped skirts much in evidence. The gentlemen had all settled for civilian clothing, and while a few wondered at Sean's attire (and how comfortable he seemed to be in it), they accepted the groom was allowed his eccentricities and that his striking similarity to a certain Captain Daniel Gregg, whose afterlife tales he had penned, further excused him. Jonathan, in full commander's dress uniform, adapted to the period, stood chatting with his grandmother and grandfather. After a few minutes he looked at his pocket watch (provided for him by the Captain for the occasion) and walked up to the alter.

"Nervous?" he muttered under his breath.

"Strangely, yes," the Captain replied equally quietly. "I cannot believe this is finally happening." He brushed some imaginary lint from his uniform. "I just wish I could do this under my own name."

"Well, you managed to get the first bit sorted, at least," Jonathan replied.

The Captain grunted. Changing his first name from Sean to Daniel had been a fairly easy matter as it transpired Sean Callahan's middle name was Daniel. Thus, for the purposes of the service (and arguing that he was starting a whole new life and wanted to mark the change appropriately), the priest had been told to address him as Daniel for everything but the first part. Getting the last name changed would take longer. Even with the cash he could now call upon it took six to eight weeks for the paperwork to go through, and he wasn't prepared to wait that long to marry Carolyn. Sean had helped, 'miraculously' producing documentation that proved he was, indeed, a direct descendent of Captain Daniel Gregg – not that it was needed for a simple name change, but it was necessary if he was to lay claim to his own house in Schooner Bay in the face of Claymore's predictable reluctance. That battle had yet to be waged, but there was a part of the Captain that was looking forward to it. He did not care for the implied insult to his honour, but for the purposes of legal nicety he had accepted it. The ones who mattered knew the truth of it, which was the most important thing in his mind. In deference to events and because taking on his entire original name would not be so easily explained, the Captain had replaced his own middle names with Sean's, an act that had not gone unremarked upon by the spirit who deemed it an honour of which he was not entirely worthy. The Captain had pointed out it was his last punch that had finally sent Callahan to his rest and that, consequently, he had earned the remembrance.

"Place is kinda packed, isn't it?" Jonathan observed quietly, nodding subtly towards the spirits.

"They asked and I couldn't very well say no. Besides, they're as much a part of this as anyone." He adjusted his sword, resting his white-gloved hand on the hilt. "Is the ring safe?"

Jonathan smiled and patted his waist where his waistcoat pocket housed the precious item. "Maria found it, just where you said she would, and had it sent over, and the inscription has been done exactly as you requested. I take it this one's special?"

"My mother's," the Captain nodded. "Thank the powers for modern postage!" He looked again to the end of the church, which remained stubbornly empty of his bride to be.

"She'll be here," Jonathan assured him.

In an effort to pass the time the Captain asked, "So, where's your ship docked?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? We're in Belfast. Easy trip from here to there once you're ready to go. Most of your luggage has already been ferried aboard."

"I am truly grateful for this."

"It's the least I could do. I couldn't have done half as well if it hadn't been for your patient training. I was so far ahead when I entered naval college it was almost embarrassing." When Daniel frowned Jonathan grinned. "I did say almost. It was rather nice to have the son of an admiral who thought he should be top of the class being forced to eat humble pie."

"You'll have to tell me that one."

"I'm sure we'll have plenty of time, dad."

The Captain smiled. "It will take me a while to get used to that."

"Shouldn't. I've been calling you that in my head for years. Still, it'll be nice to be the one telling the stories for a change."

"Bored of your old man?"

"Never happen." He looked up as he saw a movement at the end of the church. "Looks like we're on." He checked his watch. "Bang on time, too."

The Captain watched Brad being ushered to the back of the church to do his part. Elderly and frail, Brad had been determined he would walk his daughter down the aisle and the Captain had been delighted as it allowed Jonathan to be the Best Man. Even so, he watched with an eagle eye, worried the old man might stumble. When he saw two of the spirits quietly take their place either side of him, he smiled. Suddenly Brad stood straighter and marched smartly to the door, the spirits supporting him all the way. Jonathan leaned closer to his stepfather.

"They do have their uses, don't they?"

"Indeed they do, lad. Indeed they do."

A few moments later the church organ started up and Brad re-entered the church with Carolyn on his arm, his supporting spirits behind him, each resting a hand on his shoulders. The Captain drew a sharp breath. While everyone had made an effort, Carolyn outshone them all. Her champagne coloured silk dress was breath-taking and the appliquéd metallic gold hem border along the bottom reflected the light from the stained-glass windows, drawing sparkles as she walked. Her make-up and hair were subtle works of art and the overall effect was of an angel having descended to earth – in the Captain's admittedly biased opinion! As she took her place at the end of the aisle Candy carefully rearranged the skirt to ensure the small train didn't catch on anything.

"Wow!" Jonathan murmured, exactly voicing the Captain's own thoughts. "Mom looks amazing!"

Lost for words, the Captain could only nod, his eyes riveted on his bride to be.

For her part, Carolyn took in the Captain's handsome form and stumbled slightly, quickly recovering herself.

"Are you all right, dear?" her father asked solicitously.

"I'm fine, dad," she replied, quickly thinking through an explanation that would make sense to him. "I hadn't realised how good Daniel would look in that uniform. Not that he isn't a handsome man anyway, but looking like that…" She shook her head, her inner voice resurrecting words from so long ago. 'What a magnificent man!'

"From the look on his face, I'd say he's thinking the same thing about you. You two remember to tell each other that every day and your marriage'll last as long as mine and your mother's." He looked his daughter up and down. "Must admit, you do look younger somehow, but I guess that's what love does."

She smiled. The Captain had allowed them a few extra years off their appearance for the day on the grounds that everyone looked better than normal for their wedding. He couldn't take them back to twenty years before because of the human audience, but she'd needed very little make-up to look her best for them and the couple could see themselves as they really were.

Brad and Carolyn finally arrived at the alter and the service began. Once Brad had finished his duties he carefully returned to his seat, but one of the spirits stayed with him, supporting him throughout the service.

Everything was going well until the priest reached the point of asking whether any had a just impediment. At that point the door of the church crashed open and a very familiar voice cried, "Stop!"

The Captain and Carolyn turned in shock. "Blair?!" Carolyn cried, unable to believe the man was trying to ruin the happiest day of her life.

The Captain's ire was building at such a rate there were storm clouds gathering inside the church. "Why you misbegotten son of a…"

Carolyn laid a hand on his arm to remind him who he was supposed to be, but the Captain was so angry he wasn't listening. Realising everything was heading south, Sean decided he had to act. In an instant he blinked out of sight and a second later the 'Captain' shook himself and stormed down the aisle. In Sean's voice he continued.

"I finally get to marry the girl of me dreams and you turn up to ruin it. You'd better have a bloody good explanation, whoever ya are!"

The other spirits were preparing to intervene when Katriona and Rowena stalled them, insisting this had to be handled without any more spirit intervention.

"Oh, don't give me that, Captain," Blair replied cockily. "You know full well who I am. It's who **you** are that's more of a concern."

Sean turned to Carolyn. "Darlin' do you know this idiot?"

Carolyn stared at Blair, tears building in her eyes. "Unfortunately, yes. Blair, what do you think you're doing?"

"Carolyn, this man is a murderer!"

"What?!" More than one voice echoed that sentiment. Hazel and Harriet, already shocked by the interruption, instantly cocked their heads ready to mentally record every word for their future gossiping.

"And who, precisely, am I supposed to have murdered?" Sean replied, desperately searching his memory for anything to explain the man's claim.

"Sean Callahan!" Blair replied loudly.

Now everyone was confused. "This **is** Sean Callahan," the priest interjected, thinking he needed to call the police to have this lunatic taken away.

"No, this is Captain Daniel Gregg who murdered Sean Callahan to take over his body so he could force this lovely lady to marry him."

"Blair, you know as well as I do no one forces me to do anything!" Carolyn insisted.

"Have ya lost ya mind, son?" Sean added. "I know I'm wearin' the Captain's dress uniform and I look like himself, but have ya never heard of themed weddings?"

"You can stop faking the accent, Captain. It took a while to follow the trail you leave behind. You've been haunting Gull Cottage for years…"

As he spoke the priest called over one of the choir boys and quietly gave him instructions. The young man ran off, coming back a few minutes later to confirm he had done as requested and help was on the way. Blair was still going.

"Has it not occurred to any of you that this marriage happened very fast?"

"Fast?! I've known Carolyn for over twenty years!"

"And he was dying of cancer, then Carolyn arrives and suddenly the man is healed."

Dr Carlisle decided he had to intervene. "I am Sean's physician, and I think you, sir, need to take a breath and think about what you're saying. Even you must realise it sounds insane."

"It may sound insane but it's the truth," Blair insisted. "Sean was killed and Captain Gregg's ghost took over his body. Carolyn is marrying this man under false pretences."

"Blair, I know precisely who I'm marrying, and where did you get this idea from?" _Who, amongst the few who knew, would have shared that information?_

Doctor Carlisle stepped forward. "Mr… uh, Blair, I personally took the blood tests from Mr Callahan. The cancer showed a steady and marked decline after Mrs Muir's arrival. Sometimes miracles happen."

The priest looked heavenwards, "Thank the Lord."

"Quite," Doctor Carlisle acknowledged, "and the last I knew ghosts can't give blood or heal the sick. If this is, as you claim, Sean Callahan's body being somehow inhabited by the ghost of someone else, then the cancer should still be there."

"He healed it!" Blair shouted, starting to sound desperate.

Sean shook his head. "Carolyn healed me, and for that I'll always be grateful."

"With a little help from above?" the priest hinted.

Sean smiled. "As you say." He turned to Blair. "Love can change things. Have ya never read about C. S. Lewis and Joy Gresham?"

"Who?"

Half the church shook their heads at that one.

"C. S. Lewis, the author of many books and a good Irishman, fell in love with an American divorcee by the name of Joy Gresham. She had cancer. They married, with some difficulty because of her status, on what was thought to be her deathbed, but after that she went into remission. For three years she was cancer free. It did come back in the end, and I must admit I'm hopin' I'll last a lot longer, but it's happened before."

"This man is not Sean Callahan!" Blair insisted. "Ask him something only Sean would know. Something that happened before Carolyn arrived here."

The pub landlord stepped up. "Sean, what happened when ye tried to change the Murphy's tap that busy night?"

Sean laughed easily. "I got drenched and nearly knocked meself out. I tried to take the tap off before I removed the gas and it flew off and hit me in the head, then the pressure shot the Murphy's straight in me face. I jumped back and hit the back of me head on that low support girder you've got in that tiny cellar of yours. I dropped down again, got another face full of beer and hit the beam again. By the time I climbed back up the cellar steps, ya son asked me if I'd just gone five rounds with Ali!"

Several in the church, who'd heard the story before, started to laugh. Sean had dined out on that one for quite a while.

"And I checked you out for concussion," the doctor added, grinning. "Something to be said for having a thick skull."

"All right, all right," Blair yelled. "Something that hasn't gone the rounds of the town. Anyone could have heard that story!"

In the back of the church a few members of the Garda had arrived but for now they held back, watching events unfold.

One of the ladies stepped forward and whispered in Sean's ear. He blushed and then whispered something back. "It's Sean," she declared.

"Why, what did he say?"

"Nothin' I'm sharin' in a church, me boyo," Sean asserted. "Beggin' ya pardon, Father, but as ya know I've not been a saint."

"Amen," the priest replied, his face reflecting the years of trouble the man had given him.

"And why is he trying to change his name to Daniel Gregg?"

Sean rolled his eyes. "Daniel is me middle name, ya damned… Sorry Father… fool!"

"And Sean has found he really IS descended from that illustrious man," the doctor added. "Strictly speaking, he has more right to that name than the name Callahan. While I'm sure the spirit of Captain Gregg is less than pleased his dirty laundry has come out after so many years, it seems to have been the product of a very early escapade. We're all entitled to one mistake in our lives."

"It is not unusual for people who have had a close brush with death to want to mark the change in their experience of life," the priest added for good measure. "Personally, I'm hoping it means _Daniel_ here," and he emphasized the name to mark the difference, "is giving up his less than saintly past to dedicate himself to his lovely wife for the rest of his life."

"It does indeed, Father," Sean replied, taking Carolyn's hand gently in his own. "I'm sorry for this, me darlin'. You know I told you what I was like. I promise that has changed forever."

"I know…Daniel." She knew it had to be Sean she was speaking to because if it was the Captain he'd have thrown Blair out on his ear when he first arrived, but, hoping the Captain could safely return to this body once this was over, she managed to maintain the masquerade.

Sean winked at her and nodded, sensing her concern, and she settled against his shoulder happy to see this through.

"Can't you all see he's blinded you? Have you all lost your minds?!" Blair insisted.

Jonathan was reaching for his sword, his knuckles white with the restraint he was trying to exercise, but Candy quickly ran up and pressed her hand over his before he did something they would all regret. Seeing this, one of the Garda officers stepped up.

"I think you're the one who needs to be checked for sanity, sir," he said, laying his hand on Blair's arm. "Time to come with us and leave these good people to get on with the happiest day of their lives."

"Carolyn! You know I'm telling the truth!"

Separating herself from Sean, Carolyn stepped forward. "Blair, I don't know where you got this story from – 'though I intend to find whoever put you up to this – but I can't believe you wanted to ruin this day for me. I love him. Yes, he looks like the Captain, but now we know he's a direct descendent that's not so much of a surprise, is it? And yes, that certainly influenced me at the beginning. Who would not be attracted to such a handsome man?"

At this, several of the women nodded and a fair few sighed with happy memories. Sensing the Captain had calmed with Carolyn's words, Sean quietly stepped out, standing nearby to take over again should he be needed.

Carolyn looked up and saw nothing but the Captain gazing back at her. "But I have grown to love this man. He can be stubborn and we've had our fights over the years, but we always made up. He is, without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to me. He is kind, loving and always there for me when I needed him. I don't know what I would have done without him. He has stood by me when nearly everyone else was against me. I know he would do anything for me…" At this the Captain nodded, squeezing her hand in reassurance, "…and I for him. He is my life." She leaned up and kissed him.

"And you are mine," the Captain replied in his own voice, spoken so softly only she could hear it.

"And that's the best marriage vow heard in this church for many a year," the priest added. "Officers, could you remove this man so this happy couple can have their wedding?"

"With pleasure, Father," one replied. "Come along, sir. It's time you left these people alone."

"Carolyn!" Blair cried, struggling against the officers who had him firmly in their grip.

"Goodbye, Blair. If I were you I'd go quietly. If you don't, I've no doubt my husband will be happy to press charges for slander."

"Aye, I will!" the Captain agreed, giving Blair a hard look.

"I'd listen to the lady, sir, and if you don't stop struggling I'll put you in handcuffs. Do I make myself clear?"

Blair sagged and allowed them to take him away. The Captain snorted, suspecting Blair was going to be spending some time trying to explain himself.

"Now, can we all retake our places?" the priest asked. Once everyone had settled down he was just about to continue when the door opened again. "Now what?" A young man ran up and handed over a piece of paper. Wondering what other bizarre revelations were going to come out, several members of the congregation stood up again. Frowning, the priest quickly read it and then smiled. "It seems the name change is now official. In light of this, perhaps we should start again?" Happily, everyone retook their places. "Do you, Daniel Sean Gregg, take this woman…"

When the time came for the ring, Jonathan quickly handed it over and the Captain slipped it on Carolyn's finger, his eyes never leaving hers. Inscribed inside – an addition courtesy of the local jewellers – were the words he whispered now.

"A _ghrá geal."_

 _She nodded, her eyes sparking. "A ghrá geal."_

 _They remained gazing at each other until the priest coughed and hinted he could now kiss the bride. Neither needed any further prompting. The applause and cries from the living audience – a mix of joy and relief they'd finally got through the service without any more interruptions – were drowned out by the yells and cheers from the spirits._


	3. Chapter 3

Seamus and Katherine's friends were waiting back at the castle where the reception was being held. Traditional music and a modern party were going to mix afterwards to ensure everyone had a good time. Jonathan managed an imaginative reconstruction of events for his Best Man speech, allocating activities to Sean that had actually been done by the Captain, but he did it in such a way that none but those who knew the truth questioned it, and those who did know merely smiled to themselves. A few other speeches followed, occasionally interrupted by the sounds of cutlery on plates or glasses chinking together, but when Daniel rose the whole room went silent.

"Carolyn, no one has ever accused me of being at a loss for words…"

She laughed. "That's true!" Several of the other guests were inclined to agree.

"But when it comes to you," he continued, once the laughs had died down, "I find an entire dictionary of every language spoken on this earth cannot capture how I feel. As you said, we've had our moments and both of us have made mistakes from time to time."

"You? Admitting you've made mistakes? Should I ask Doctor Carlisle to do a check on you?" More laughter as Beth nudged her husband.

"Would ya allow me to speak without interruption, woman?!"

"I'm sorry, Daniel," she smiled. "I promise I shan't interrupt again. Please…" and she indicated he should continue.

"Thank you." He paused, trying to structure what he wanted to say. Speaking his heart with Sean's voice was difficult and he wondered if he might manipulate things a bit. Concentrating hard he adjusted the illusion. The guests would hear Sean's native accent. Carolyn would hear the words spoken in his own voice. It required some effort, but for this it was worth it. "I believed myself a firm bachelor; that I would live and pass on alone, save for those of my friends who hadn't tired of my, I admit, occasionally irascible nature. I was so afraid of being the pet poodle by the fire I had forgotten that such a beast sleeps there so contentedly because he knows he has nothing to fear and is surrounded by love. You have shown me such love, even when, on occasion, I probably did not deserve it. I cannot guarantee never to disappoint you – such grace is reserved only for angels – but I hope you will find it in your heart to be as forgiving of this old man in the future as you have in the past. What I can promise is I will be as loyal to you as you have been to me for the rest of my life and beyond. Yours will be the first face I will look for upon waking, the last I wish to see before I go to sleep and you will fill my dreams in between. What I feel for you is beyond anything I could imagine. To be able to hold you and touch you, hear your laughter and share your dreams is more than I deserve. In Jonathan and Candy, who are a reflection of you, I have found the children I never thought I would have. I am proud of both of them as if they were my own. That they have chosen to call me dad means more to me than I can say, but all of this is only possible because of you. Your love means everything to me. I will strive to be worthy of it for the rest of my days."

The tears were flowing down Carolyn's cheeks and her throat was too choked to speak. Instead she mouthed "Me too!" as Doctor Carlisle quietly handed her another pack of tissues. The Captain held out his hand to her and she rose, quickly accepting the hug he offered. Applause and cheers followed his speech and when they parted Carolyn looked to her children. Candy was openly crying while Jonathan's eyes were sparkling suspiciously. Carolyn tossed the rest of the tissues to her daughter who laughed and nodded her thanks.

"Something in your eye, lad?" the Captain asked Jonathan, everyone now hearing Sean's accent.

"Yeah, dad," the young man replied. "When I finally find the right woman for me I hope you can teach me how to be at a loss for words like that!"

Cries of "hear, hear" and several laughs greeted his comment.

The Captain smiled. "It's easy, me boy, when you find the right woman." He turned to Carolyn. "I believe we are supposed to begin the revelries. Would ya care to dance?"

"Oh, yes please!"

When the Captain led Carolyn in a waltz there was hardly a dry eye in the house – living or not. Even several of the mortal men found themselves standing straighter in a desperate effort to emulate the Captain's presence, while Sean's past paramours had to concede they could see what the groom saw in his wife – even if they didn't stop envying her. Brad and Emily shared a look and smiled, holding hands. After a while Brad got up, bowed to his wife and held out his hand.

"Are you sure?" Emily asked, knowing Brad wasn't normally prone to dancing these days.

"I can't let our daughter's husband show me up. Besides, I've not felt this good in years."

"All right, then, but just the one. We're neither of us spring chickens." They joined the wedding couple on the dance floor and were quickly followed by the rest of the guests.

Afterwards the Captain and Carolyn were the perfect hosts and if the spirits around them quietly ensured everyone had full glasses and plates, no one really noticed. It seemed simply part of the magic of an interesting and, in the end, perfect day.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

It was nearing the end of the party and Candy and Jonathan had found a quiet spot to sit down, finally feeling they could relax in their duties as secondary hosts. A slow dance had allowed Carolyn and Daniel to return to the dance floor. They had been noticeable by their absence during the faster pieces, the Captain occasionally shaking his head at the 'noise they call modern music', but he was pleased to see so many others enjoying themselves and so didn't make too many complaints.

"That was a lovely speech dad made, wasn't it?" Candy commented, taking off her heels to give her feet a break.

"Uh huh," Jonathan replied, staring into space.

"What's up?"

"I was just trying to figure out where Blair got his information from."

"We'll probably find out, eventually. I was actually quite pleased for the delay, 'though I could have done with something a little less exciting."

"Why?"

"I had hoped the form would arrive before we left for the church."

"That was you?!"

"What was, Candy?" Carolyn said, hearing the last words as she and Daniel left the dance floor to sit with their children.

"Getting the name change form to the church," he answered quickly. "How did you do it?"

"I was wondering that," the Captain said, pulling out Carolyn's chair before seating himself. "It should have been another month at least."

"Well, after Jonathan upstaged me with his wedding gift I had to come up with something!"

"Darling, I told you. Having the two of you here to celebrate the day with us was all the present we wanted," Carolyn said, patting the Captain's hand where it rested on her leg.

"I know, but I wanted to do more. I knew dad wasn't happy that he'd be marrying you with the name Callahan, so I telephoned one of my colleagues in the Law School at Johns Hopkins to see if they could come up with a way to speed up the process. Turns out he has a friend who works over here in local government and **he** has a friend who works in the Deed Poll Office. I faxed over the proof of dad's family connections Sean gave us and explained what it meant to you to be married under the name of Gregg. As it happens, Shirley, the lady at the Deed Poll Office, read The Great Ghost Gregg and thought it was wonderful. Hearing she could do something for the author she found your application and fast-tracked it through. I, um, did say I was sure you'd write to thank her. She's a bit of a fan."

"We both will," Carolyn asserted.

"Of course," the Captain confirmed. "That was a wonderful wedding gift, Candy. Thank you."

"Nearly didn't get here in time," she muttered.

"So Blair did have his uses," Carolyn mused. "I'm not going to press charges."

"You are far too kind, my dear. I was tempted to run him through with my sword."

"I noticed. Thank goodness for Sean!"

"Did I hear me name?" the spirit in question asked, strolling up to the table.

"Yes, and I will say thank you for dealing with today's events at the church. However…" and here the Captain raised his finger, "if you even _think_ of doing that again I will find a way to make your afterlife purgatory!"

"Not a chance. Have ya any idea how strong a will ya have? Keepin' ya back and dealin' with that idiot was almost more than I could manage. Why d'ya think I've been so quiet for most of the reception? I needed time to recover!"

"Well, he couldn't have managed it without you, so thank you. Murder at the wedding isn't the best way to start married life!"

"It was me pleasure, Carolyn. After you'd waited so long I wasn't going to let anything get in the way."

The Captain yawned and then blinked, somewhat surprised at himself. "I keep forgetting I need to rest from time to time. Of course, it would be easier if I didn't have a nor-easter whipping through my room all night!" He levelled a look at Sean.

"That room always did have a bit of a draft," the spirit replied innocently. "The master bedroom is a lot cosier." He winked at Carolyn who blushed.

"And a lot less haunted?" the Captain asked, the implication clear.

"Completely abandoned," Sean assured him. "Funny thing. Only room in the place that I can guarantee will have no disturbances for the next… twenty-four hours?"

The Captain, who'd been in the middle of sipping some wine, nearly choked. "Who do you think I am, man? Hercules?"

Carolyn was laughing so hard she needed the tissues again. "Well, you were the strongest man in New England," she asserted, dabbing at her eyes.

"Strength is not what will be required of me tonight," he assured her, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. "However, I have been told I have unswerving devotion to duty."

"TMI!" Candy cried, slipping her shoes back on. "Come on, Jonathan. I think it's time we get the guests home."

"I'm right behind you!" Jonathan replied, quickly following his sister.

Once the last of the guests had said their goodbyes to be ferried away by a string of taxis, and the band had packed up their kit and gone to their trailers parked in the castle grounds, the Captain locked the door. While Candy and Jonathan would be sleeping in the rooms already made available to them, Brad and Emily, in deference to the newly married couple, were staying at a nearby hotel for the night and then taking a short vacation before going home.

"Night mom, night dad," Candy called, waving as she walked barefoot out the side door to her room, her shoes held by their straps in her other hand.

"See ya tomorrow, mom," Jonathan echoed. "Try not wake up too early. Night dad. Remember, England, or in this case Ireland, expects you to do your duty!" Before the Captain could utter a word, Jonathan had winked and closed the door behind him.

"Cheeky scamp!" the Captain muttered, but without malice.

Carolyn surveyed the room. "What a mess. Not looking forward to clearing all this up in the morning," she sighed.

"That's for the morning," the Captain replied, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Tonight there are other things we should be doing." Together they made their way up the main staircase to the master bedroom. As they neared the door the Captain stepped ahead, opened it and then turned. "If you will permit me, I believe this is traditional." Before Carolyn could ask he swept her up into his arms and carried her into the room, lowering her to the bed.

"Still the strongest man in New England, then?" she asked, smiling.

"A very light load," he replied, waving her off as he undid his sword belt.

"I never did ask you where you found that uniform. It's not as though you could create it the way you used to."

He looked a little uncomfortable, then shrugged. "Would you believe there are tailors who specialise in this sort of thing? Once we had booked the wedding, Sean helped me track one down."

"Why would anyone specialise in things like that?"

"For museums and film companies, theatre productions, re-enactment societies and the like. They tried to fob me off with one that had been used for some film or other, but there was so much wrong with it I had to have this one made to order. Had to pretend I'd seen them at a museum in America, otherwise it would have taken some explaining. Even so, I think they wondered how I knew about the secret pockets at the back."

"Secret pockets?"

He had undone the coat and now took it off, turning it around. He dipped his hand either side of the pleats at the back, showing there were pockets hidden in the folds. "Deep enough for small things. We tended to keep quiet about them so pickpockets could not take advantage."

She reached in, the pocket depth allowing her to get to just beyond her wrist. "I never knew about them."

"That was the idea." He pulled out a hanger and carefully arranged the coat on it. When he went to undo his stock and tie Carolyn rose.

"I've always wondered how this is tied."

He raised his chin so she could look at the way the black material was knotted around his neck, the ends under the wing collar of his shirt. "Damn fool tailor tried to get me to have a ready-made one with some kind of clip at the back. Convenient, I admit, but hardly appropriate."

Carolyn figured out how to untie it and the long length of material was slowly unwound. Once both ends were free she used them to pull him down so she could give him a kiss, then slipped the lot from his neck and undid his collar.

"You know, Daniel, you have a distinct advantage over me."

"Oh?"

"You've seen me in… what did you call my swimsuit? My skivvies?" He grinned and nodded. "While I've never seen you even without your jacket until a few weeks ago. I must admit, I'm looking forward to seeing what the strongest man in New England looks like without a stitch on." She stroked her hands over his chest, the rumble she felt under her fingertips telling her he enjoyed her exploration. "Is this body the same as yours was?"

"To my astonishment, yes. Whether that was in part courtesy of our little friend when he put me in it or because Sean was an exact double, I confessI cannot tell. The doctor didn't seem to spot any difference when he did his weekly exams, although of course I had modified it slightly for his benefit. Still, I could only work with what I had."

She had finished undoing his shirt buttons and now pulled the material from his trousers, running her hands over the taut muscles. He shuddered, his stomach muscles tightening as her fingers brushed across them, stroked up his sides and then slid around to the back, repeating her exploration.

"You know, Carolyn, right now you have the advantage, and I deem that entirely unfair."

"Oh?" He gestured to her dress and she smiled. "Then, my dear Captain, perhaps you would care to even the odds?"

"With pleasure."

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

The Captain sighed contentedly, one arm wrapped around Carolyn who had her head resting on his chest, her hand tracing patterns across his skin.

"Happy?" she asked, as if the look on his face wasn't evidence enough.

"Very. Did I meet with your expectations?"

"I would say exceeded them, but I don't want you to have trouble getting your head through the door tomorrow. What about me?"

"I admit, I was slightly surprised about some of the things you knew. In my day, a lady wouldn't think of doing such things to a man."

"Complaining?"

"Hardly!" He bent to plant a kiss on the top of her head. "I begin to see the advantages of female emancipation."

Playfully she smacked his chest. "You don't know the half of it!"

"No," he rumbled, lifting her head to look her in the eye, "but I am very much looking forward to learning more." Wrapping her in his arms he rolled her over and began his studies. "I just hope," he whispered between kisses, "that you will forgive me…if I prove a slow student who needs to revisit his lessons…regularly."

"I have the feeling I may prove equally slow." She gasped as he hit a sensitive spot. "I hope you will be able to forgive me, too?"

"Always."

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

When Carolyn woke the next day, she stretched and found herself sore in all the right places. She gazed at her husband who had rolled onto his side and was still sleeping soundly. Apparently, their exercise had finally beaten "mister early-riser" and she took some pleasure in knowing she was the cause of it. She took a few moments to review the events of the past day, wondering again at the miracle that allowed her to have this man sleeping beside her. Gently she spooned behind him, carefully wrapping her arm across his stomach. His hand folded over hers and gave it a squeeze.

"Are you awake?" she asked.

"Um hmm."

"How long have you been pretending to be asleep?"

"Not long. Only about half an hour."

She kissed his neck and snuggled even closer, draping one leg across his. "I'd have thought you would have got up. You usually complain about my staying in bed late."

He pressed her arm against his stomach, adjusting his head on the pillow. "I wanted to savour the moment. I have had over a hundred years without human touch. Now I plan to enjoy every minute of it."

"It must have been hard. I think I'm only just starting to realise how hard. You're such a tactile man."

He rolled over. "It wasn't so bad, until you moved in to Gull Cottage. Up until that moment I had forgotten how much I missed it."

"And yet you still held on until our wedding night."

"It wasn't easy, but I believe it was worth it. We more than made up for it last night, as I recall."

"Hardly. There are still well over a hundred years we need to redress. Could take a while." She leaned over and kissed him, moaning when he returned it and pulled her tightly against him, revealing he was more than ready to start that instant. A second later a loud rumble from his stomach had her pulling back with a chuckle. "I think you may need to re-stoke your furnaces first!"

"Blast! For once I find myself feeling lazy and unwilling to get out of bed."

Just then there was a quiet knock at the door. Carolyn frowned as Daniel threw off the covers and grabbed his trousers and a turtle-neck, throwing them on with a speed that showed this wasn't the first time he'd had to dress in a hurry. Once decent he yanked the door open ready to lay into whoever it was who'd decided to ruin his morning. Instead of a person or even a spirit, outside he found two trays laden with breakfast and a note. He looked up and down the hallway but there was no sign of anyone. He picked up a tray and the note and carried it inside, handing it to Carolyn before collecting his own. Undressing again he got into bed beside her, placing the tray on his lap. Carolyn was reading the note.

"Who was it?" he asked, quickly digging into his breakfast.

"Rowena," she smiled. "She says she didn't want to disturb us but wanted to let us know the spirits have tidied everything away from last night and we're to take as long as we like. Jonathan and Candy will be going into town to do some shopping and she promises we will not be disturbed." She folded the note and reached for the coffee cup, taking a mouthful before tucking into her own meal.

He grunted. "Hotel service. I approve."

"I'm going to miss them when we leave. I've grown rather fond of Rowena, and Sean has proven to be a good man, despite his best efforts to the contrary when he was alive."

"Well," he said, pausing long enough to take a mouthful of tea, "there is no reason why they cannot visit us in Schooner Bay from time to time. Not that I want them as permanent house guests, mind, but of all the guests we've had at Gull Cottage they would probably be one of the more welcome ones."

"You know, we still have quite a bit to do before we leave for our honeymoon."

"Yes, but that's for tomorrow. Today is for us, and from the sounds of things we have lots of help. It won't take as long as you might think. Remember, I know what a spirit can do once they put their mind to it, and I have a few powers of my own that can be brought to bear, should they be required." He raised a hand and a mushroom on Carolyn's plate rose up and floated across to his. He stabbed it with his fork and popped it in his mouth, grinning at her.

She rolled her eyes. "There are some things they can't do. We have to write the thank you letters and the cheque for the doctor and hand it over, plus you wanted us to collect some things before we left."

"Jonathan and Candy are handling some of that. I left them a note yesterday listing the stuff we wanted, including the coffee you're so fond of."

"When did you have time to do that?"

"When Katriona, Rowena and the other female spirits told me flat I couldn't see you because it was unlucky before the wedding. I had to do something until it was time to leave for the church. I wrote out the cheque, too and a few other thank-you letters. My half of the one to the lady at the Deed Poll office and the one to the Muirs for a start."

"That was kind of them. Do you think they realise we're now richer than they are?"

"I think not, given the amount they sent us. I must admit, I do feel rather awkward taking that, given our situation, but I don't see how we can return it without insulting them." He bit into his toast, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. "Not that I mind insulting Ralph, especially after he tried to help himself to my Madeira, but Marjorie is a good soul and I suspect she was the instigator."

"Then I think the best thing we can do is pay them a visit once we get back, and use the money to give them a treat. Perhaps a visit to the theatre and dinner for all of us?"

He grunted, buttering another slice of toast. "Perhaps. We can look into it nearer the time."

Carolyn eyed his empty plates. "You really were hungry," she observed. While she had made a considerable dent in her own meal she couldn't manage all of it and was now contentedly nursing her coffee.

"I was. Do you want that slice of toast?" When she shook her head he quickly snagged it, finishing it off. Once they were both done he collected the trays, opened the door just enough to check the coast was clear and then shunted them out into the hallway with his foot before closing the door again. Turning around he eyed Carolyn. "Now, my dear, would you care to join me in a morning shower?"

She smiled, the look on his face telling her this might take some time. "I hope there's plenty of hot water."

"I am assured it will last for as long as we need," he replied, pulling her to her feet and leading the way.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

"Hey, Jonathan! Look!" Candy called as they passed a wool shop in the town high street. Her brother wandered over. "You recognise it?"

Jonathan grinned. "Sure do." Together, they walked into the shop. A few minutes later they walked out again, Candy carrying a large bag and both sporting grins.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

While the shower was an experience, both had laughingly admitted it was hard on backs and knees and consequently a one-off venue for sexual antics. Dressed in trousers and shirt with the silk stock wrapped twice around his neck and the black bow tie ends tucked neatly under the short collar, the Captain waited for Carolyn to finish her make-up.

"It really isn't necessary, my dear," he insisted. "You look perfectly lovely just as you are."

"That's very gallant of you, Daniel, but I feel half-dressed without it, so I'm afraid you'll just have to wait."

He shrugged and pulled on his blue pea-jacket. Over the past weeks he'd managed to more or less replace his wardrobe with clothes in which he felt more himself. When Carolyn had argued he was now in a position to wear more modern fashions, he'd replied that if the 20th century was about feeling comfortable then he felt comfortable in the same clothes he'd worn for over a hundred years. His only concession on this occasion had been to eschew the turtle-neck on the grounds that, in his own words, it was 'too blasted hot' for such attire. He had just finished doing up the buttons when a noise from downstairs alerted him to the return of Candy and Jonathan.

"Take your time," he said, heading for the door. "I will help the children bring in the shopping."

"Don't call them children to their faces, darling. They'll let you have it, both barrels."

"Thank you for the reminder," he grinned and stepped out. As he walked down the stairs it was to see Candy struggling under a mass of bags. He quickly descended the remaining stairs and relieved her of her burden.

"Thanks, dad," Candy said as she dumped some of the bags on the table that had been returned to its usual spot.

"Your brother should have been helping you with this," the Captain replied, ready to teach Jonathan a thing or two about being a gentleman.

Candy indicated the door where Jonathan was manfully trying to squeeze through with even more bags. "He is," she replied and quickly ran forward before her brother dropped something.

"Good God, man! Did you buy the town?"

"Feels like it," Jonathan admitted, standing straighter now he'd been relieved of some of the weight.

"How are we to ferry all this to the ship?" the Captain asked, surveying the collection.

"Once it's all unwrapped it'll be a lot smaller," Candy replied. "At least half of this is going in the garbage."

The Captain rolled his yes. "What a waste."

Candy flopped down into a chair. "Welcome to the latter half of the twentieth century," she replied, raising her hands.

Jonathan dug into the pile and brought out the large bag they'd collected from the wool shop. "And one reminder of the nineteenth," he grinned.

"Eh?"

Candy jumped back up. "Oh, yes! Where's mom?"

"Upstairs, still putting on her make-up."

"Great. Look what we found!"

"Yeah, who knew the place to get it was Ireland?" Jonathan added.

Candy handed the clothing to the Captain who immediately recognised it. He quickly undid his jacket and replaced it. "How do I look?" he asked.

Candy and Jonathan both nodded their approval, the former walking around him to make sure they'd got the right size. "Like something out of a dream," she said, reaching up to give him a peck on the cheek.

The sound of the door opening upstairs alerted them to Carolyn's imminent arrival. The Captain walked to the foot of the stairs and waited. Carolyn reached the top, looked down and paused. There below her was Daniel looking exactly as he had in the Christmas dream from so many years before. The white, shawl collar cardigan fitted him perfectly. She quickly ran down the stairs and he caught her at the bottom, wrapping his arms around her. As they engaged in a kiss, Candy nudged Jonathan.

"Yep," she nodded, watching the couple. "Exactly like our dream."

"Uh huh. C'mon. We've got to get this stuff unpacked and repacked for the ship. Those two are gonna be out of commission for a while."

As they emptied the various bags and boxes Candy grinned. "Did you notice the name of the shop where we got that?"

He laughed. "Yeah, Blarney Wool Store. You couldn't make it up, could you?"

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

At last everything was complete for their move back to America. With one bag containing their last-minute stuff, which the Captain insisted he would carry, the keys ready to hand over to An Taisce, all monies transferred and their final goodbyes given to the townsfolk, the Captain, Carolyn and Candy waited to leave. Doctor Carlisle was due any minute. They'd asked him if he would mind ferrying them to the station, their rental car having been taken by Jonathan who had left the evening before to return to his ship and make sure everything was ready for their arrival. Candy would be flying back to the US once she'd seen her parents safely aboard.

Katriona and Daniel, Rowena and Sean, Sarah and a couple of other ghosts were all that remained of those who had spent so long haunting the castle. Carolyn and the Captain bid them goodbye, torn between happiness they were returning home and sadness they were leaving the castle.

"It's not forever," Sean insisted, when he saw Carolyn covertly wiping away a tear. "You've got permission to stay whenever ya want and we'll make sure the place is looked after."

"I know," she replied, "but so many things have happened here that have changed my life forever… Oh I wish we didn't live so far away!"

"Not so far today," the Captain reminded her. "Why, in my day it would have taken almost as long to get to Keystone as it now takes to cross the Atlantic."

"Did ye warn An Taisce the castle is haunted?" Katriona asked.

"Yes. Told them they had best be careful who they send to look after the place or they would never hear the end of it," the Captain assured her. There was a knock at the door. "That will be the doctor," he added, quickly changing his and Carolyn's appearance before heading out to answer it, but it wasn't the doctor. Standing outside, each carrying some bags, were Katherine and Seamus. "Hello you two. What are you doing here? Come to see us off?"

"In a manner o' speakin'," Seamus grinned. "We're the new caretakers!"

"Wonderful!" cried the Captain and quickly led them inside. "My dear, may I introduce you to the new caretakers of Callahan Castle?"

Spirits and humans alike celebrated the news, but Carolyn was confused. "I didn't know you worked for An Taisce."

"We didn't," Seamus admitted, "but the Captain alerted us to the job and we applied."

"I may have hinted to the committee that a descendent of a past resident who knew the castle's history would be an excellent choice," the Captain admitted, pulling on his ear.

"Well, I think that's perfect. You two can catch up with your ancestors and make sure no one does anything they shouldn't… like excavate behind that wall," and she nodded her head towards the hidden room that contained Katriona's remains.

"At least until we're ready to move on," Katriona added. "For now there's a wide world out there I ne'er got to see when I was alive. Daniel and I will be exploring for a few years yet."

"Which leaves meself and Rowena to mind the store," Sean added, hugging his lady to his side, "together with a few others."

Sarah curtsied. "I want to make sure the place is in good hands before I leave," she supplied. "Not that these two are not an excellent choice for caretakers, but a little help at the start might not go amiss?"

"Sure, but that's the truth!" Seamus agreed, taking in the huge castle around him. "Full time job lookin' after a place like this."

"I think that's the idea!" Carolyn laughed.

As the spirits helped relocate Seamus' and Katherine's bags to the master bedroom, another knock alerted them to the doctor's arrival.

"Sean… sorry, Daniel," he greeted when the Captain opened the wicket gate and let him in. "Can't quite get used to that after so many years, but somehow it suits you." The Captain merely smiled and led him inside where the others greeted him. "Are you ready to go?"

"Almost, there's one last thing we wanted to do. I'm afraid we got you here under false pretences," Carolyn admitted.

"Oh?" She handed the doctor an envelope and, frowning at her curiously, he tore it open. When he saw the size of the cheque he stumbled, the Captain quickly reaching out to steady him. "This is too much! You can't do this!"

"We can and we have. It's not a huge amount in the scheme of things…" Carolyn asserted as the Captain returned to her side.

"But we made a promise and we stick to those," he finished. "We hope this will be some small thank you for everything you and the others did for us." The doctor was still staring at the cheque, his mouth opening and closing without words issuing forth. "Come on, me boyo! Ya look like a codfish washed up on the beach!"

"I don't know what to say," he admitted, pulling out his wallet and safely placing the cheque in the folds. "I'll make sure the Cancer Support Group know who to thank."

The Captain raised his hand. "No, ya won't. It's an anonymous donation. We just hope it will help ya to keep doing what you're doing."

"Oh it will," he replied. "It most definitely will. Thank you very much for this. I hope you will stay in touch?"

"Of course. Seamus and Katherine have our number and we will be back, of that I have no doubt."

"And you and your wife are always welcome to visit us in Schooner Bay," Carolyn added. "Even doctors have to get some holiday!"

"I look forward to it," the doctor replied, "but perhaps not for a little while. Give you two a chance to settle down to married life first." He squinted at the couple. "Looks to me like you're settling in perfectly. Carolyn, did you remember what I told you?" When she frowned he added, "about women who think they've gone through the menopause." Carolyn gasped and covered her mouth. She'd completely forgotten. Over twenty years without it being a concern thanks to the Captain's insistence on preserving her virtue, then menopause and finally the excitement of being married had combined to ensure that particular precaution hadn't even been considered. "In that case, I look forward to hearing good news in the not too distant future. If you need any advice you know my number. Just remember the time difference, please!"

The Captain glanced between the two, wondering for a moment what they were talking about. After a few seconds the penny dropped and he grinned, pressing his wife to his side. "With any luck!" he crowed.

"Now just remember, it's not so easy for older women. You take good care of her or I'll be flying over to give you a good talking to myself!"

"Join the queue," Candy grinned, "but I don't think we have anything to worry about on that score."

"No, indeed," the Captain replied. "She is the most precious thing in my life. Nothing will harm her so long as I am around."

The doctor quirked an eyebrow. "You know, it's funny. Every now and then your voice seems to change… usually when you're talking about Carolyn."

The Captain cleared his throat. "What can I say?" he replied, fully asserting Sean's accent. "She brings out the old-fashioned gent in me."

"Then you're good for each other," he replied, dismissing it, much to the Captain's relief. That was something he was going to have to watch. "Now, if I'm not taking you to the station, how are you getting to your honeymoon trip?"

A loud noise outside had everyone looking up and together they headed to the door. "Jonathan said he had arranged something," Carolyn supplied, "but I… Oh my goodness!"

Outside a navy helicopter was landing in front of the castle. The Captain stared, having never seen such a thing in his life (or after it). "What the…?"

Jonathan jumped out and ran over, his head bowed under the pressure of the blades. "Hey guys. Ready to go?"

"How did you manage this?" the Captain asked.

"The crew needed to do some checks and I persuaded my Captain a short detour would be acceptable."

Candy, who'd been alerted to Jonathan's plan earlier, brought out their coats, the suitcase and Carolyn's handbag and between them they were quickly loaded. With final waves to humans and spirits (visible only to them), Jonathan helped them into their seats. Once they had on their helmets and ear defenders and were strapped in, the helicopter took off.

The Captain was fascinated, eager to understand the technology that permitted this marvel, but he knew he had to hold his tongue until they were in private. Jonathan sensed his interest and assured him he'd left some information about both the ship and its various modes of transport in their cabin, should he wish to read it. The Captain squeezed Carolyn's hand while he watched the rolling green countryside speed by below them, his whole demeanour reminding Carolyn of nothing so much as a little boy at Christmas. Not that she had ever travelled this way before either, but his face was a picture.

"Loud, isn't it?" she shouted, even though the microphones built into their helmets allowed communication.

"Jonathan nodded, "You get used to it," he replied, his tone slightly quieter and pointing to his mike to remind her he could hear her perfectly well.

"Wonderful," she heard the Captain say. "Absolutely wonderful!"


	4. Chapter 4

The USS Hornet was due to depart an hour after they arrived, which gave them enough time to get settled in their cabin. The Captain quickly apprised himself of the main locations and routes, finding it surprisingly easy. The terms were familiar, even if the size was not, and the layout made perfect sense to his seaman's eye.

The couple joined a few others on the deck as the ship left port, waving to Candy who bid them farewell from the dockside. Jonathan took them on a quick tour so they could find their way to places such as the gym, dining area and entertainment. The Captain was struggling to get his head around the amenities.

"Truly a city at sea!" he muttered as a cinema was revealed.

"We spend a lot of time at sea. This way we can enjoy the comforts of home wherever we are. Things have changed a bit since your day, dad."

"You can say that again! This is a veritable palace!"

"So good to hear someone who appreciates her," a deep voice replied. They turned to see the ship's Captain smiling at them. "Captain Mark Trace, at your service. It's a pleasure to meet you. Jonathan here has told me a lot about you, Mrs Gregg." He shook Carolyn's hand and then turned to the Captain. "And you, sir. Congratulations, both on your marriage and on beating the cancer." He reached out.

"Thank you," the Captain replied, accepting the handshake and noting Captain Trace had a firm grip. "This ship is truly marvellous. I've sailed for many years, but never on something like this."

"So Commander Muir told me. I must say, sir, I envy you. You have to really know the sea to navigate on the old sailing ships. Is it for re-enactment or cruises or what?"

Ahh, so that's the story Jonathan had told. He raised an eyebrow at his son who grinned and shrugged and then refocussed on channelling Sean. "A bit of a mix. Sometimes it's just nice to sail with a crew and capture life as it was, navigatin' by the stars and maps. Modern technology doesn't look right on the bridge of a sailing ship."

"Quite. I hope during our voyage you'll take the time to sit with me. I have any number of questions that I'm sure you can answer. Commander Muir tells me what you don't know about sailing ships would fit into a thimble. But I thought you were a writer?"

"A writer who wrote about a sea captain and got hooked," Carolyn replied before things got out of hand.

"Aye, but I had an interest before that, too," the Captain added, "so it was a natural progression, ya might say."

"Excellent. Then if I may ask you to join me at the Captain's table tonight? Commander, I believe you have duty now?"

Jonathan saluted smartly. "Yes, sir. Mom, dad, will you be all right?"

"I'll continue the tour, Commander," Captain Trace assured him.

"Thank you, sir." And with that Jonathan about faced and headed off to attend to his duties.

"An excellent seaman. My compliments. You raised a fine young officer."

"Thank you, Captain Trace," Carolyn replied.

"You're a civilian, Mrs Gregg. Mark will do."

"That's very kind of you. Carolyn," she provided.

"And Daniel will be fine for me," the Captain added, aware that to this man his invented experience would not truly qualify him for his title, even if his actual experience did.

"Very well, Daniel. What would you like to see? The Bridge, perhaps?"

The rest of the day was spent touring the ship, the Captain by turns fascinated and bewildered by the changes since his own time. The two Captains fast became friends, Captain Trace quickly recognising Daniel as a fellow seaman who truly understood what he was doing rather than a fair-weather wannabe. After a while Carolyn excused herself to allow the two to compare notes and Captain Trace hailed an ordinary seaman who escorted her to her cabin.

"I must say I'm grateful for the personal tour," the Captain said as Trace showed him the hold where the amphibious vessels were stowed. "I'm sure you have better things to do than waste time on me."

"Not at all. To be honest, I find I enjoy your company. You're a bit different to most who come aboard and it's a pleasure to talk to someone who understands the sea as you do."

As they watched the men below working on one of the craft, the Captain noticed it was coming loose. Without thinking he yelled down, "Belay that! Secure that lash or someone will be killed!"

Trace, who hadn't noticed the loose cable, was about to reprimand him for exceeding his position when he, too, saw the amphibious craft nudge forward, straight towards a seaman who was working with his back to it. Loudly he added his own voice. "Do as he says!" They watched as the vehicle rolled forward and the young seaman, alerted by the shouts, only just got out of the way in time, the others rushing to secure the loose fittings. Trace turned. "Thank you, Daniel, I suspect you may have just saved that man's life."

"I'm sorry," Captain Gregg replied. "I should have alerted you, but I only just saw it and there wasn't time."

"Quite. Well, no harm done. If you'll excuse me." He turned and shouted, "Officer of the Deck!"

The Captain stepped aside while Trace gave a dressing down to the Officer of the Deck for allowing the cable to come loose in the first place. He watched the deck crew checking all the other cables and noticed an old lieutenant eyeing him angrily. As the Officer of the Deck walked away yelling orders he turned to Trace. "Mark. Not that it's any of my business, but that lieutenant," and he pointed to the man who was now working with the crew to secure the amphibious craft. "Who is he?"

"Lieutenant Cornwall. Why?"

"I'm not sure," the Captain replied, his eagle eye noting the alacrity with which all the men set to their tasks, including the lieutenant. "Something feels off. Probably my imagination. He does seem to have anger issues," he added when Cornwall turned and scowled at him for a moment.

"My crew, Captain Gregg," Trace replied formally, making it clear he considered the conversation closed.

"Of course. None of my business. Once again, my apologies. Captain," he said, returning the formality, "I've taken up enough of your time and I'm sure ya have other duties to attend to. When should we arrive for dinner?"

"Eighteen thirty hours. I'll send someone to collect you. That's…"

"Five bells, first dog watch," the Captain automatically translated and grinned. "Sorry. Still on old time."

Trace smiled, the matter of Lieutenant Cornwall now filed away. "Been a while since I've heard it called that. I feel we have much left to talk about. I'll walk you to your cabin. This ship can sail without me for a while yet."

"The advantage of a good crew."

"And modern sailing aids." He led the way off the deck and back along the labyrinthine passageways until they reached one of the ladders leading to the upper decks. "So, do you have a ship back in port?"

"Not at the moment. I was a landlubber for some time. I was thinking of spending more time on the sea now I'm movin' to Schooner Bay but having seen this…" He shook his head. "To be frank with ya, it's a bit intimidating."

"The sea is still the sea. For all our aids and the size of our ships you still need the old skills as much as all these new electronic gizmos." He lowered his voice, "To be honest, I barely understand some of them, but don't tell the crew that!"

The Captain laughed. "With all ya need to know these days, keepin' up is a full-time job in itself. In my day… I mean, with the old sailing ships," he quickly amended, "there was less to learn once you'd done your training and found your level, just endless refinement built on experience."

"Ahh, but the sea is a cruel mistress and a harsh teacher," Trace averred, stepping through one of the watertight doors.

"That she is."

The two parted company outside the cabin and the Captain stepped inside, his mind still reeling from all he had learned.

Carolyn was stretched out on the bed taking a nap. Smiling, the Captain shrugged off his jacket, toed off his boots and lay down, wrapping his arm around her.

"Hmm, did you enjoy your tour?" she mumbled, still clearly sleepy.

"Still trying to take it all in," he admitted, kissing her shoulder. "We've got dinner with Captain Trace at six thirty."

"What time is it now?" she yawned.

"Just gone two. Plenty of time."

"I was going to get some work done, but I couldn't concentrate. I think you wore me out!"

"In a good way, I hope?"

"Um hmm." She rolled over. "Daniel…"

"Hmm?"

"What if I do get pregnant?"

He blinked and then grinned. "Then I shall be a very happy man."

"Yes, but explaining it back in Schooner Bay…"

"I think they understand how it happens," he chuckled, working his way to her neck.

She gave him a playful swat. "I know that. I _am_ a bit old for that sort of thing, though."

"We have managed before, we will manage again."

"What?"

"Our appearance, the cancer… I'll find a way. When the spirit is willing…"

"You end up with a bedraggled ghost, as I recall."

He smiled. "Not any more."

"Still, perhaps we should use some protection from now on?"

He pushed himself up on his elbow, leaning over her and stroking his fingers through her hair, brushing the bangs from her forehead. "My dear, I think we can safely say that particular ship sailed quite some time ago, and even if it hasn't, if you should end up pregnant I would be the proudest man in New England as well as the strongest." He bent to kiss her again.

"Did you lock the door? Last thing we need is someone wandering in."

He smiled and continued to kiss her, raising a hand and making a slight motion. The sound of a click confirmed he had successfully secured their privacy.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Lieutenant Simon Cornwall was not a happy man. Since he had been in charge of the crew that had the accident, he'd been given a major dressing down by the Officer of the Deck. From the way that landlubber guest of the Captain was watching him, he had the feeling the man had dropped him in it. Typical! Just when he was finally managing to rebuild his reputation. He poked his food as he sat in the galley, angry at himself for not seeing the problem, angry at the Captain's guest for dropping him in it, angry at whichever seaman hadn't secured the cable correctly, angry at fate for the lousy luck that seemed to dog his steps. He should have been in the officer's mess, but he felt ill at ease and at least here he was ranking officer. The ratings would leave him alone as they always did. He was never the friendliest of dinner companions, but that served his purpose. He saw some of the deck crew walk in, note his location and settle on another table, but they were close enough their conversation carried.

"You OK there, Paul? Thought you were a gonna for a minute."

"So did I. Good thing Commander Muir's step-father saw what was happening and yelled out."

"That's who he was? I was told he sometimes Captains sailing ships."

"Really, in this day and age?" said another through a mouthful of food. "Must be one of those re-en-idiots." The others laughed at this well-worn jibe against so-called 'living historians'.

"Hey, I'm not complaining. If he hadn't seen what was going to happen I'd be in the morgue by now."

"Yeah, I noticed old Corny didn't spot it."

The words were said softly, but Lieutenant Cornwall had a sharp ear for such things. He stiffened, shoved his plate away from him and stood up, bearing down on the table.

He pointed at the speaker. "You, man. What did you call me?"

"I meant no offence…"

"Stand up when speaking to an officer!"

Strictly speaking, at mess in peacetime that was a rule more honoured in the breach, but the seaman quickly snapped to attention. "Just a friendly nickname, sir. Sorry, sir."

"You will be. On report for insubordination and showing disrespect for an officer. Report to me after mess."

"Yes sir."

Satisfied, Cornwall marched out. Once he was out of earshot the others continued their conversation. "Bad luck, Andy. He got extra duty and now he's taking it out on you."

Andy shrugged. "Guess it was my turn."

"At least we're at sea. If that had happened in port you'd have lost your shore-leave."

"Lucky me," Andy sighed.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

As he walked down the passageway, Cornwall was fuming. So that's who that man was? A 'sailor' who wouldn't know a real ship if it was bearing down on him! He had heard a lot about this so-called 'Captain' Gregg. Muir seemed to have an endless round of stories about the man, most certainly invented, of course. No one could be the way Muir described him. Maybe here was his chance to get his revenge on the fake Captain and get some payback on that young upstart who'd taken his promotion. Muir needed to be taken down a peg or two and Cornwall was determined to be the man to do it. He'd prove Muir's hero had clay feet.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Unaware he had just become a target, Captain Gregg was sitting in his cabin reading through the material Jonathan had left for him, the sound of Carolyn in the shower providing background noise. He wanted to make sure he could hold his own in conversation with Captain Trace and redirect things if they veered into areas where he might make mistakes. So many things had changed since his time and he knew there was a good chance places he'd visited would be known to such an experienced officer. If he inadvertently referred to something that hadn't been there in the last fifty years he'd have a hard time explaining himself. This way he could turn the tables and ask some intelligent questions of his own. Even so, the Captain found himself feeling overwhelmed. In his day a good Captain could handle just about any man's job in a pinch, and sometimes had to when things got tough. That was simply not possible any more.

The shower stopped and a short while later Carolyn emerged with a towel hitched under her arms and another in a turban on her head. Knowing how long it would take for her to prepare herself for the evening, he'd allowed her to go first.

"All yours," she said. When he didn't move she leaned over his shoulder to see what had him so engrossed. "Interesting?"

Awkwardly he pulled on his ear. "Yes, very." There was an enforced cheerfulness in his tone. "Rather, uh, a lot to take in."

"Only because you've not been trained in it. You trained Jonathan and he's doing well."

He waved the comment off. "Merely the basics. Enough for a youngster aboard a sailing ship." His voice dropped so she had to strain to hear him. "Nothing to prepare him for this." He sounded so defeated Carolyn frowned. This was supposed to be fun for him, not torture.

"Go take your shower," she suggested. "We've got less than an hour before dinner." Once he was in the bathroom she started to get ready. "Captain Trace," she murmured to herself, "You and I will be having a conversation."

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

A young seaman knocked on the cabin door at twenty past six to take them to the captain's mess. Both were ready to go and it took only a second for the Captain to morph their features appropriately. Once outside, their cabin door locked and the key securely in the Captain's pocket, Carolyn engaged the rating in conversation, but the Captain's progress along the passageways was largely silent. Lost in his own musings, he didn't notice Cornwall coming in the opposite direction until the man banged into him, hard. The Captain stumbled with the force of the blow but recovered quickly. Without so much as a false apology, Cornwall carried on, leaving the Captain frowning at his back and rubbing his shoulder.

"You all right, Daniel?" Carolyn asked.

"Yes. I think Lieutenant Cornwall is making his feelings about me apparent."

The rating, who'd seen the incident, agreed. "He does seem to have taken against you, sir. Would you like me to make a report?"

The Captain shook his head. "That'd only make the situation worse. If I were an officer on board this ship I'd deal with it, but I'm a guest and no harm done."

Carolyn stared at him. She'd never heard him excuse rude behaviour before for any reason or in any location. This wasn't like him at all. "Daniel…"

"Come along, m'dear. Mustn't keep the Captain waitin' for his supper," he insisted with forced cheerfulness.

They were nearly there when Carolyn feigned fumbling her bag. As Daniel knelt to pick it up she dropped beside him. "Daniel, what's the matter with you?" When the rating turned to see if he could help she gave him an embarrassed smile. "We're fine. I'm just clumsy."

"It's just through this door, ma'am, sir."

"Thank you." She turned back to the Captain as the rating left them alone. "That officer was downright rude. If he'd done that to me I'd've given him a piece of my mind!"

"Madam, if I were captain of this ship and he had done that to you, I would have had him up against the bulkhead and been looking for a cat to give him a lashing. However, this is not my ship and you were not the injured party. Come," and he stood up, offering her his hand, "Captain Trace is waiting for us."

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

The dinner had gone quite well, the Captain easily holding his own with Trace and the other officers, but even Jonathan noticed he was not as ebullient as was his wont when talking about the sea. When Captain Gregg excused himself to take a stroll on the deck, leaving the cabin key with Carolyn, Jonathan turned to his mother.

"What's wrong with dad?" he whispered.

Keeping her tone equally low she replied, "I think he's feeling something he's not used to."

"What?"

"Unwanted and redundant."

"On board a ship?!"

"Exactly. That's the problem. Your ship has shown him just how much things have changed. Reading about it is one thing; seeing all this has brought it home to him."

Jonathan closed his eyes and swore quietly. "I'm sorry, mom. I wanted this to be something you'd both enjoy and instead I've really fouled things up."

"Not your fault, darling. He had to learn sooner or later."

"I'd best go topside and make sure he's all right." Louder he turned to Captain Trace and said, "Sir, if I may be excused? I'd like to make sure my father doesn't get lost."

"Of course. Carry on. Carolyn," he said as Jonathan stepped out and headed after the Captain, "I must say your husband is a delight. I can see where Jonathan gets his charm."

"Oh, that's Daniel all right," she smiled. "Charm the birds from the trees when he's a mind to."

"I doubt there's a single thing about sailing that man doesn't know," agreed one of the other officers. "I think I learned more in the last hour of conversation than in my last year at the academy." Several of the others agreed.

"I wish you'd told him that," Carolyn replied, a note of bitterness in her voice.

"I beg your pardon?" Trace asked.

"I'm sorry, Mark. I love my husband dearly and right now he's feeling useless. In his day… I mean, with sailing ships," she amended quickly, "the captain knows everything about his ship and every job in it. Knowing he's not asking anything of a man he couldn't do himself gives him the confidence he needs to command. Here there's no way you can do that, yet you are all _so_ confident. I know that's down to training and experience, but for the first time in his life he feels small. He even excused a man bumping into him on purpose and nearly sending him into the bulkhead, and I've never seen him do that before."

Captain Trace frowned and several of the other officers exchanged glances. "Who bumped into him?" Carolyn tried to dismiss the incident but he wouldn't let her. Finally she admitted who it was. He turned to one of his officers. "Marsden, find Cornwall and tell him to get his worthless hide here this instant."

"Please, Mark, don't! Daniel said it would only make things worse."

"Carolyn, an officer aboard my ship has insulted one of my guests – a guest who saved the life of one of my crew, to boot. I will not have it."

"Oh, I **knew** I shouldn't have said anything."

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

The Captain was leaning on the cable railing on the flight deck, gazing out to sea. The moonlight was illuminating the scattered clouds, breaking through from time to time and glinting off the bow waves that spread out from under the flight deck as the ship ploughed on in the darkness. His seaman's eye noticed the cloud formations and, combined with the wind direction and temperature shift, he knew they were going to be heading into a storm. He sensed rather than heard Jonathan coming up behind him.

"Lad," he said, by way of greeting, "There's a storm coming up."

"Yes, we saw it on the radar earlier. It's all right. This ship has weathered typhoons. She heaves a bit but she's watertight."

The Captain nodded. "I'm sure she is."

Jonathan rested beside him, mirroring his stance. "When do you think we'll hit it?"

"Your radar will tell you that better than I."

Jonathan nodded to himself. His mother was right about how the Captain was feeling. "Yes, but I'm not on the Bridge. I could waste time running back and forth to find out, or I can ask you. The details will be the same."

The Captain looked out over the sea, eyed the clouds and finally declared it was going away south of them for now. Jonathan nodded. "You knew that," the Captain observed, shrewdly, "so why did you ask?"

"To prove a point. There's no real substitute for experience. Back at Gull Cottage you could spot a weather change hours before we got it on the radio… even when you didn't cause it."

The Captain snorted. "Aye, lad, but now you can get five-day forecasts. I can't do that."

"Neither can they. Half the time by day two they've changed."

"They'll get better at it." He sighed and then turned, leaning his back to the cable rails he folded his arms, his eyes roving the helicopters massed on the deck. "Did your mother send you to find me?"

"No. I decided to look for myself."

"Well, as you can see I'm perfectly all right. You'd best return or your captain will wonder what's keeping you."

"He knows where I am."

The Captain frowned. "Then allow me to be more forthright. You found me, I am perfectly well and I would like to be alone." A slight rumble of thunder accompanied his words.

"And our radar can't pick up that," Jonathan smiled.

"In a few days' time it won't be an issue. I will be back at Gull Cottage where I belong."

"Dad…"

The Captain's temper snapped. "I am **not** your real father, I am not even a seaman now. Leave me alone, Jonathan." With that he strode off towards the stern. Jonathan watched him, shaking his head. He knew once the Captain calmed down he'd regret what he'd said, but pushing it now wouldn't help the situation. With a sigh, he made his way back to the Captain's Mess.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Captain Trace asked the other officers to leave once Lieutenant Cornwall was delivered to him, but since the insult had been against Mrs Gregg's husband he felt she should be there to accept the apology given the absence of the man himself.

"Lieutenant Cornwall. Care to explain what happened earlier?"

"Sir?" With Mrs Gregg's presence Cornwall knew exactly what this was about, but he wasn't about to admit it unless he had no other choice.

"You ran into Captain Gregg, a man who is in his sixties. You did it deliberately and then failed to apologise. You're damned lucky he has good sea-legs under him or you might have caused him a major injury. I would like an explanation, Lieutenant."

Mentally, Cornwall tried to come up with one beyond 'I wanted to', but the sea was calm so he couldn't claim a sudden swell had caused him to lurch, and the passageway was easily big enough for three to walk abreast. "I wasn't paying attention, sir."

"That seems to be a pattern with you. Do you have a problem with Mrs Gregg's husband?"

"Sir?" He was taking the fifth.

Trace ground his teeth, but his voice remained steady. "I see you put Seaman Andrew Pratt on report for insubordination and disrespecting an officer."

Cornwall looked at Carolyn, wondering why she was being allowed to remain when this was nothing to do with her. When he hesitated, Captain Trace fixed him with a glare. "Yes, sir. I overheard him making a disparaging remark about me in the mess."

"Your report failed to mention the nature of the remark. What did Pratt say?"

"He called me a name, sir."

"Details, man. I'm losing patience," Trace growled.

"He called me 'Corny'."

Trace blinked. "Are we back in kindergarten, Lieutenant? You've given the man five days latrine duty! Given your infraction was far more serious, what do you suggest I do to you? Put you in the brig?!" The last came out as a shout.

Cornwall was flailing. "And he failed to stand to attention when I called him on it," he added a little desperately.

Trace pinched the bridge of his nose, appearing outwardly calm, but Carolyn could see the vein in his neck beginning to strain. "Lieutenant, I don't expect my officers to act like school-yard bullies. You shoved a guest of mine and your punishment is excessive. Reduce Pratt's duty to one day and apologise to Mrs Gregg. Once Captain Gregg returns I will expect you to apologise to him, too, and do it properly as befits his rank."

"Captain Gregg? He's no Captain!" Cornwall burst out, his anger at being dressed down in front of a civilian getting the better of him.

Carolyn stepped forward ready to defend her husband, but Trace beat her to it. "I have been sitting with the man for over two hours. He has more seaman's knowledge in his little finger than you have in your entire body. I don't care what kind of ship he commands, or how often, he's earned his title and you will show respect to a senior officer, just as you demand it of the crew. Luckily for you I'm _not_ a bully, so I won't be making you replace Pratt at latrine duty, but you **will** apologise, damn you!"

"Sir." He turned to Carolyn and bowed stiffly. "My apologies, Mrs Gregg."

"Thank you."

"Carolyn, would you excuse us for a moment?"

"Actually Captain, I think I'll go see if I can find Daniel. As you say, we're neither of us young and I don't want him to catch a chill."

Trace nodded. "Then I bid you goodnight. Oh, and Mrs Gregg?"

"Yes?"

"Please advise your husband that both of you will be welcome in the Captain's Mess for the duration of our voyage. It's a rare thing for my officers to be so complimentary toward a guest, and I'm sure they would welcome the opportunity to learn more and make up for their lapse in thanking him properly."

"Thank you, Captain. I'll tell him." She turned to Cornwall. "Lieutenant, please give my husband a chance. He's a good man and he deserves better."

"Ma'am," Cornwall replied formally, bowing his head.

Knowing that was as good as she was going to get, Carolyn collected her shawl and bag and stepped out, closing the door quietly behind her. Despite that, she could hear Trace's fury from the other end of the corridor as he laid into Cornwall for, from what she could tell, an incident with a cable. She just hoped Daniel could avoid the man for the rest of the voyage.

One of the officers was waiting down the passageway and he gave her directions for the shortest route to the deck. Following them she met Jonathan on his way back.

"How is he?"

"Cooling off in the stern. Mom, I'm really sorry. We're too far out to get you back to port so you can take a flight. I wanted to give you both something special, but…" He raised his hands, his frustration with the situation plain. "Please make sure dad knows he's won the respect of the senior officers. I've been in that mess with Admirals and they've not received such a warm reception."

Carolyn smiled. "I know. Your captain has invited us to attend his mess for the rest of the voyage."

Jonathan raised his eyebrows. "Really? Never heard him do that before! Dad always makes his mark, doesn't he?"

"Um hmm. I'd best track him down. I think he forgets he can catch a chill like the rest of us now."

"It's not too bad at the moment, but there _is_ a storm brewing. We're tracking it on the radar and it's heading south, so shouldn't be a problem for us." At his mother's look he added, "As I told dad, this ship can weather just about anything. Even if we went right into it, the worst we'd have to worry about is a bout of sea-sickness." He led her further down the passageway so she could get up onto the flight deck closer to the stern. As she turned to go he added, "Tell dad it's OK, I know he didn't mean it."

With a frown Carolyn stepped out and saw a lonely figure standing at the stern. She made her way over to him, slipping her arm through his when she reached him. "Jonathan says there's a storm moving south of us."

"Um hmm. You can feel it in the air. Looks like a big one, but we'll be fine. On our current heading we should skirt around it. I doubt in this ship we would even feel it."

"That's good to know. I don't have your resilience to sea-sickness. Or vertigo," she added, glancing down to see the drop from the flight deck to the water, white flecks, churned by the screws and the ship's passage, visible in the darkness.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied, stepping back from the edge in deference to Carolyn's discomfort. "When I threw Blair's motorised dinghy around I seem to recall he was rushing to the side while you helped yourself to some liver pâté."

"It was very nice pâté. Seemed a shame to waste it."

He gave a snort of laughter and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I fear I have not been good company tonight."

"On the contrary, based on your performance the Captain asked me to tell you that we are both welcome at his mess for the duration of the voyage. The other officers were very complimentary too. You impressed them, Daniel."

"I did?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

She wrapped her own arm around him and squeezed. "Yes, you did."

"Not much fun for you, sitting there listening to old seamen's yarns."

"I love listening to your stories, as you well know, plus you've given me some ideas for articles. I'll make some notes when we get back to our quarters. I can probably get several month's rent out of the stories I'll collect over the next few days."

"My dear, once we get back to Schooner Bay, Gull Cottage will be ours and you will no longer have to worry about rent."

She smiled. "Is it wrong of me to say I'm quite looking forward to that? Not the rent so much as the moment you walk into Claymore's office and he realises you're back in the land of the living." The Captain chuckled, just as Carolyn had intended. "I hope you'll allow me to introduce you? I don't want to miss a moment."

Now he laughed out loud. "Oh, my dear. You always know what to say to me."

"I should do, by now. I think I may pop into the store on the way to buy a bottle of water for when he passes out. Just remember he's not as young as he was. You can't pick him up and throw him out the door the way you used to." The pair were laughing loudly now, the Captain's morose mood finally broken. A few moments later he suddenly sobered and turned sharply.

"I need to find Jonathan," he said as he set off.

"Daniel, stop. Jonathan said to tell you he knows you didn't mean it and it's OK. Do I want to know what you said to him?"

He dropped his head, shame washing over him. "Something unforgivable."

"Well, he has forgiven you, so I suggest we leave it until tomorrow. You can apologise to him then. Speaking of apologies, Lieutenant Cornwall apologised to me for bumping into you earlier."

"On his own?"

"Ah. No. Captain Trace ordered him to."

"How did the captain find out about it?"

"And now it's my turn to apologise. I accidentally let it slip after you left." When the Captain put his hand over his eyes she added, "I tried to blow it off but Mark wouldn't let me. He took it as a personal insult."

"As would I, were I in his shoes. That is precisely why I told you to forget it." He shook his head and lowered his tone. He could see Carolyn was feeling bad. "What's done is done. I suppose I will just have to deal with it,"

"I _am_ sorry, Daniel."

"Let us hope I do not encounter Lieutenant Cornwall again for the duration of the voyage."

Given Cornwall had been ordered to apologise to the Captain in person there was faint hope of that, but Carolyn decided she'd keep that to herself.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

The next day Carolyn was in the cabin typing up her notes on a computer that had been delivered to her room at Captain Trace's request. One of the crew had remained in the room for a while, explaining how to use the word processor, save files onto the floppy disks and check them so that she could have them printed out when she was ready. It was all a new experience for her, but she quickly grasped the advantages of word processing and within the hour had decided one of her first purchases once they returned home would be a replacement for her aged typewriter. The savings in liquid paper alone would cover the costs, not to mention the reduced stress. The Captain had also stayed for a while, intrigued by the new machine, but once Carolyn had grasped the basics he felt it prudent to leave her to it. She'd be typing for hours and, whatever his feelings on his own position, the Hornet deserved more time spent exploring her. He quickly made his way to the upper deck and watched as several helicopters did practise runs. One of the deck crew handed him some ear defenders for which he was extremely grateful and the Officer of the Deck, who, he noted, had been at mess the night before, quickly engaged him in conversation, explaining how cable rails could be dropped to allow landings by other craft, the principles of helicopter flight, how the already massive beam could be increased to 200 feet if the flight deck elevators were extended, the command structure (which caused the Captain to raise his brows significantly), details of wet and dry launches and how the ship was designed to deliver large numbers of troops and equipment anywhere in the world. He also advised the Captain that if he came by tomorrow one of the Harrier jump jets would be making a reconnaissance.

"If you entertain us as well tonight as you did last night, I think I can arrange for you to take a trip in it. We don't usually allow it for civilians, but I think you've proved to all of us you're not really a civilian so I'll talk to the captain. That is, if you're interested?"

"I would be, but don't put yourself out. I realise it'd be breaking protocol and I don't want to get anyone in trouble."

"No trouble. I can ask. Whether Captain Trace will allow it is up to him." He checked the time. "My watch is over. Do you want me to introduce you to my replacement or will you be going elsewhere?"

"I've taken up enough of ya time and ya all have work to do. I'll go bother someone else," the Captain replied.

"No bother, Captain Gregg. A pleasure talking to you. On that note, I was remiss last night. You left before I had the chance to thank you. Been a long time since I was quite so entertained of an evening. I hope you'll be invited back."

"Apparently, I have been."

"Excellent! Then I will see you tonight."

"I look forward to it, but please be quick to let me know when I'm boring you. Don't want to outstay me welcome!"

"Can't see it happening. I hope I can visit you when I next get leave. Perhaps you could take me out and teach me a few tricks?"

"I'd be delighted!"

With a wave, the two parted company. When he reached the door leading off the flight deck he handed over his ear defenders and was about to make his way back to the cabin when another officer, a lieutenant commander, saw him.

"Captain Gregg! I'm glad I caught you. Had a wonderful time last night. Looking forward to hearing more. I gather from the captain you'll be joining us again this evening?" The Captain nodded. "Excellent. Look forward to it. You and your charming wife are a breath of fresh air. Speaking of, I trust Mrs Gregg is well?"

"Just fine. She's workin' in our cabin. Wanted to make some notes she can turn into articles. I've told her she has to check anything before she sends it off, so no worries there," he added to forestall any security concerns.

"I'm surprised she's not using the library. I'd've thought that would be a better place for her to work."

Captain Gregg's jaw nearly hit the floor. "You have a library on board?"

"Of course. This ship has over a thousand officers and men and there's always training going on. Were you not told?" When the Captain shook his head the lieutenant commander grinned. "Then allow me to show you!"

The library was far more than the Captain had imagined possible aboard a ship. Crewmen were scattered at desks and workstations, ploughing through manuals or simply reading for pleasure in comfortable chairs. The Captain stood there, mouth agape for some time. Finally he drew breath. "Carolyn is going to love this! Would you excuse me?"

Grinning, the deck officer waved him off. Satisfied he'd made some partial payment for all he had been entertained the night before, he went on his way.

As the Captain turned a corner he encountered the XO, Captain Moore, who made a point of saluting him. Stunned, Captain Gregg drew himself to attention and returned the compliment. Moore reached out a hand and the two men shook firmly.

"Captain Gregg, I'm glad I found you." He turned and motioned behind him. Lieutenant Cornwall stepped up. While it was clear he was far from eager for this encounter, the man showed professional courtesy and, after a brief look from the senior officer, snapped off a salute. Again, the Captain returned it.

"Lieutenant Cornwall," the Captain nodded, wondering what was going on.

"Captain Gregg," the man responded, his eyes fixed straight ahead, "I apologise for my rudeness yesterday. It will not happen again."

"Thank you, lieutenant. I accept your apology."

"Thank you, lieutenant. You're dismissed," Moore said, returning Cornwall's salute and watching the man as he made his way back to his post. He turned to Captain Gregg. "May I apologise myself for that man's behaviour? He has been reprimanded and should you have any further trouble I ask that you inform one of the senior officers immediately."

"Not a formal reprimand, I hope?" The Captain was aware of the effect such things could have on a man's chances of advancement. "He made a mistake but it was minor when it came to me. Now he's apologised I'm happy any reference to the incident be forgotten."

Moore raised an eyebrow. "I'll inform his CO. The matter in the hold that started all this will remain since that endangered life, but I'll ask the other be expunged."

"Thank you. Um, I seem to have got turned around. Can you point me in the direction of my cabin? Certainly get a workout on this ship!"

The Captain smiled. "Obviously, no one pointed you to the monorail."

"The what?!"

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

By the time he got back to the cabin Captain Gregg was once again feeling overwhelmed, but this time in a good way. A library, a hospital big enough to handle even the most severe battlefield casualties with three operating theatres, monorails, elevators, aircraft that could hover like hummingbirds… What other wonders had he missed in Schooner Bay? That place had barely changed and he was glad of it. In this bustling, superfast world it was nice to know there were still places that moved at a more human pace. Even so he found an unanticipated excitement at the thought of all the things his new life offered him – things he could appreciate even more because of the weight of years he carried.

He stepped into the cabin to find Carolyn still typing away.

"Surely I didn't talk that much?" he said, walking over to plant a kiss on her cheek.

"No. You were restrained by your standards, but I got some ideas while you were gone and I wanted to write them down while they were fresh."

"Hungry? It's past lunchtime."

She looked at her watch, her eyes widening when she realised how long she'd spent working. "I hadn't realised. Typing on this keyboard is a lot less hard work than a manual typewriter. Have we missed it?"

"There is food available all the time. Come with me, I have something to show you." With his new-found knowledge the journey to the mess hall (laid out like a restaurant) was a great deal quicker. The menu was wide and varied, and the food itself highly palatable. Afterwards he led her along the passageways until they neared his intended destination, then asked her to close her eyes. Curious, but trusting him completely, she did so and he led her the rest of the way. Once they were through the doors he told her she could look. She gazed around in awe at the shelves of books.

"This is bigger than the one in Schooner Bay!"

"Um hmm, and the computers are connected directly to printers. I thought you might like to see your work printed out." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the floppy disk he had quietly snagged once he was sure she had saved her work. Eagerly she made her way to a work station, popped the disk in, pulled up the file she'd been working on and sent it to the printer. Seconds later a loud noise alerted them to the printer location and she watched as her words appeared in front of her. "Make two copies. I'd like to read it, too."

In short order both had copies of her latest work and were sitting in one of the reading areas in companionable silence, broken only by occasional comments from the Captain that Carolyn added to her copy as needed. It was there, an hour later, that Jonathan found them.

"I knew after Captain Moore told me you'd been shown this place that this is where I'd find you." He leaned down and kissed Carolyn on the cheek.

"Captain Moore? I'm confused."

Captain Gregg smiled. "This ship has two captains. Captain Trace is in overall command, Captain Moore is his XO."

"I thought you were second in command?" she said, looking at Jonathan.

"I'm under Captain Trace. There's a Marine contingent aboard and Captain Moore is senior officer there as well as handling other operational matters. It'd take too long to explain."

"I can imagine."

"This is supposed to be a quiet room. Would you like to grab some coffee?"

"Good idea!" Carolyn enthusiastically responded. Making sure the Captain had her disk they quickly exited and made their way to a rest area where a number of crewmen were laughing and joking. Once Jonathan had collected their drinks they found an empty table and sat down.

"Jonathan, I truly am sorry for the way I spoke to you last night," the Captain said as soon as he was settled. "Carolyn said you'd forgiven me but even so…"

Jonathan waved it away. "You were feeling out of sorts last night. Looks like you're better now, though."

"I am. Knowing the Hornet needs two captains strangely helped. I was thinking I could not possibly manage all this, but now I realise no one could."

"Yep, we're all just human, including you!"

The Captain lowered his voice. "Lad, I'm still getting used to that. Give your old man time." He winked.


	5. Chapter 5

The next two days followed similar patterns. The couple would walk the deck or visit a recreation area for a while, then Carolyn would go to the library to work while the Captain took every opportunity to learn as much as he could. While he missed the Harrier trip because he was on the bridge learning about sonar and radar, he had so much else to do he didn't mind. He and Carolyn would meet for lunch and then retire for coffee and to read through the stuff she was working on. Evenings were spent with the other officers. The Captain found he still had stories to tell but, aware his eager audience would exhaust his useable reserves if he wasn't careful, he rationed them, ensuring, as he had when a Captain in own time, that every officer was included, felt valued and respected.

Halfway through the second evening, as one of the men regaled them with stories of some hi-jinks at the naval academy, there was a knock on the door.

"Come," said Captain Trace.

"Sir, Commander Muir asked me to give you this."

"Thank you, Matthews." He took the piece of paper and examined it. After a minute he stood up. "Daniel, Carolyn, I hope you will forgive me but I'm needed on the bridge. I suggest you get to your quarters. Gentlemen, get to your posts and implement heavy weather protocols."

The Captain frowned. Their heading had avoided the storm that he'd been watching, but now it seemed either the storm had changed direction or they were going to. Curious, but aware they'd likely get in the way, he guided Carolyn back to their cabin and went about securing everything that wasn't already locked down.

"Daniel? I thought we were going to bypass the storm?"

"We were. Feel that?" He paused, noting how the deck below him shifted. "We've just changed course. We're going into it."

"Why?"

"I'm not the captain of this ship, my dear, but I'm sure Captain Trace has a very good reason." He only wished he knew what it was.

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While the ship did begin to heave it was no more than the Captain had experienced in a mild squall aboard his own ships. Given the size of the behemoth he suspected that outside the weather was far harsher. Carolyn was sitting in an armchair reading, the computer having been unplugged and locked down for safety. The ship's air-conditioning meant the cabin remained comfortable and she was unconcerned by the movements, which were noticeable but tolerable. The Captain, however, found it impossible to sit and was pacing the room, trying to gauge the severity of the storm through the deck plates. It was not easy. The sensations were muffled by the ship's size, but over the past few days he'd started to develop a feel for her and he knew she was taking a battering – a fact he chose to keep from his wife.

A rap at the door had him across the room in an instant. He'd left their appearances as they were in the captain's mess but he still took a moment to double check before he swung the door open. Outside a seaman waited.

"Sir, Captain Trace's compliments. He asks if you would join him on the bridge."

Confused but happy to comply, the Captain looked at Carolyn. "Whatever happens, stay here, unless ordered otherwise," he said sternly. "This is the safest place you could be."

"Why would the Captain want you?" she asked, rising from her chair, her face etched with concern.

"Perhaps he realises I'm not going to be comfortable sitting it out down here? Just don't move. I want you safe."

"Trust you to get to see all the exciting stuff."

He scowled. "That is beneath you. This is not exciting. A storm like this could sink a smaller vessel."

"Really? In that case, that _was_ thoughtless of me, but it doesn't feel too bad down here."

Mollified, he explained. "That's because of the size of this ship. I assure you it will be a lot rougher up top."

Now Carolyn looked worried and the rating smiled in reassurance. "No worries, ma'am. It's a rough one, all right, but this ship has handled far worse. We'll be fine."

The Captain grabbed his pea-coat and took the life-jacket and wet weather gear the seaman offered, pulling it all on as fast as he could. While he was dressing, Carolyn took in the body language of their messenger. He seemed anxious and in rather too much of a hurry for this to be merely a polite invitation, causing Carolyn's own concerns to spike. "Daniel? You will be careful, won't you?" There was so much more said in her expression – you're not a spirit any more, you can be killed; I can't bear to lose you; make sure you come back in one piece.

He finished dressing and gave her a hug and a loving kiss. "My dear, I'm going to the bridge, not diving off the side. I will be fine."

"Can't I come with you?"

The rating shook his head and Carolyn frowned. What was going on?

The Captain offered an explanation. "If it's as rough as it feels, the bridge will be far too busy to take time for a civilian. You won't be able to see much if anything, and there will be orders flying around that you won't understand but can sound frightening. I think it better if you stay here. I promise you I will take every care."

"He's right, ma'am. Besides, I only brought wet weather gear for one. You'd be soaked to the skin before you got there and that water is mighty cold!"

"Quite. The last thing we need on our honeymoon is you catching pneumonia." He grinned at her. "I'll be back as soon as I can." With a last kiss to her forehead he followed the seaman.

Once he had left Carolyn locked the door and leaned against it, staring thoughtfully at the overhead.

The storm was all he thought it was and more. While their cabin was quite deep in the ship, the upper decks were heaving rather more alarmingly. His sea legs well established, he had no trouble negotiating the watertight doors, dogging each one behind him as he went before the rating opened the one ahead. The view from the bridge was both electrifying and terrifying, even to one as experienced as himself. Huge walls of green water washed over the flight deck as they plunged through the darkness, occasionally illuminated by blinding flashes of lightning. Rain battered from every direction and the wiper blades at full tilt around the bridge barely made a dent in it. He'd felt the storm worsen as they made their way through the ship but he hadn't been prepared for this. The bridge itself was bathed in a mix of red and green light, the latter from the various scanners that monitored the progress of both the ship and the storm.

"Ahh, Captain Gregg," Trace hailed him, the man an oasis of calm that the Captain found welcoming. "We have a problem I'm hoping you may be able to help us with."

"Me? In this?"

"Commander Muir has been quite insistent you are the man for the job, but I will advise you that I would not think any worse of you if you told us all to go to hell."

He looked from Trace to Jonathan and then back again. "What's the job?"

Jonathan walked up to him. "Dad, there's a sailing ship – a four-masted schooner. She left port before the storm hit as requested, and we're keeping her protected as far as we can, but her Captain was injured and there's no one with the experience to deal with this situation. There are civilians on board who refuse to leave. We need a good captain on there. We've ferried over crew and Captain Moore has volunteered, but even he admits he's not got the experience when it comes to sailing ships in this weather. You have. As Captain Trace said, you can tell us all to go to hell and that's fine, but I insisted they ask. I knew if I didn't and anything happened to her or the crew you'd curse me for not saying anything."

The Captain nodded, gripping Jonathan's upper arm. "You're right, lad, I would." He turned to Trace. "How are you going to get me over there?"

"Captain Gregg, may I remind you that you are not a young man? I asked you here to satisfy Commander Muir's requests but I had assumed you'd turn it down, given your age and the risks involved."

"Jonathan was right to ask you to call me. I've dealt with things like this before. Just get me over there."

"If anything happens to you I will be the one taking responsibility."

"No you won't, Captain. I will. Besides, if that ship goes down because we do nothing, who'll be responsible then?"

Trace allowed him that one. Either way it would be him. "It could still go down."

"Her chances of staying afloat will be much improved if I'm on board. Do you doubt my ability?"

"Until I met you, honestly? Yes. However, I will grant the last few days it's been quite obvious you know rather more about seamanship than any writer should. So much so I find myself wondering if you are a sea captain masquerading as a writer, rather than the other way around. Are you absolutely certain you want to take the risk?"

"I am. My decision," he said, loudly enough everyone could hear him. "Now how are you going to get me over there?!" With time of the essence he was fast losing patience.

"One of the Chinooks will ferry you over and drop you on the deck. Take this," and he handed over a radio. "You can tell us what you're doing and we can stay in touch. There are two others over there." He quickly showed the Captain how to use it. "If you forget, one of our crew can relay orders for you."

"Right."

"You may be a damn fool, but you're a brave one, I'll give you that. Good luck, Captain Gregg."

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Jonathan went with the Captain to the Chinook. Shouting over the wind and stinging rain he yelled, "The only way we can get you on there is if we lower you down. If we try to get you across by boat you'll likely be smashed by the hull, ours or theirs. We've done emergency flights like this before but this might be a good time to see how much of your power you can call on. We're a bit closer to home than we were!"

"Not as much as I'd like," the Captain yelled back. "Make sure your mother stays in her cabin. I'm going to need everything I have for this and that means she'll be revealed. In this weather it won't matter what I look like, no one will be able to get that close to see in the dark, but it's different for her. And for God's sake don't tell her what I'm doing. You think **I** can curse you, you wait until you hear what she will say if she thinks you put me in danger!"

"I know, but if that ship's to have a chance you're the only man who can do it."

"You're right, lad." There was no arrogance in his assertion, just cold, hard facts. "Give me a hand with this thing." He pointed to the harness and Jonathan snapped it into place.

"Once you're aboard, hit there," he pointed to the raised part of the buckle, "hard with your fist and it'll release. Our crew are waiting for you, including Lieutenant Cornwall."

"What?! Why in the name of all that's holy did you assign him to it?!"

"I didn't. They're all volunteers. I volunteered too, but Captain Trace refused to let me go. If he had I wouldn't be calling on you."

"Then thank him for me. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you. Do they know I'll be in command?"

"Yes. Captain Trace will have relayed that after we left."

"All right. I'll see you once this is over."

"Good luck, dad!"

"Thanks, son. If something does go wrong, you take care of your mother and you make sure she knows this was my choice." Giving Jonathan a hug he climbed aboard the helicopter, clipped himself to a safety line and hung on tightly as it pulled itself off the heaving deck. The ship dropped from under them and the pilot took the opportunity to quickly veer off towards the foundering schooner.

The deck of the smaller ship was far from an easy target to hit and it took several near misses and a collision with the main mast topgallant, that left him winded and fearing a cracked rib, before the Captain felt confident enough to release the buckle and drop onto the deck. It was enough of a fall he had to summon all his available power to ensure a safe landing, but it came when he needed it and while he was bruised and battered he was upright. He pressed a hand to his side where a sharp pain alerted him to the possible break and he took a second to re-concentrate his forces to dull the pain. He'd need all his wits about him for this one. Once done he assessed the situation, the flashes of lightning allowing him to see. The foremast was over the side, the shrouds and foresail caught on the belaying pins holding it so it banged into the ship every time they crashed through another wave. Damaged timbers and popped caulking were letting water pass below as were loose hatches, either damaged by the fall of the mast or poorly done, and the wash of water was dragging the schooner down. He quickly started shouting orders.

"You men," he pointed to a mix of navy and schooner crew, "grab the axes and release that before she smashes the hull, but keep hold of the foresail, we'll need it. Watch those stays! If they snap and hit you, you'll be overboard. Tie yourselves to lifelines. You three, come with me. We need to do a better job of battening down the hatches, she's taking on too much water." He looked up noting the Captain had reefed sails before being injured, leaving the storm sails in place, but if this kept up they might be looking at running under bare poles. "The rest of you, lash down anything that can move and check the rest to see they're secure. If you can't lash it down, send it overboard. It'll help lighten the load. Lieutenant Cornwall, you're with me." As he set about battening down the hatches properly he turned to Cornwall, the most senior officer besides himself. "Lieutenant, how many are aboard?"

"Including civilians and our crew, 19."

"What's happening with the civilians? Can we get them off?"

"We tried but they were too frightened to move. We were trying to get them off when the captain was injured. The winch cable got caught in the rigging and…" He indicated the broken mast. "It hit the captain. They managed to get him in the harness so the Chinook could hoist him up, but he had a couple of near misses with the main mast and spars, and the others saw it all and ran. They're below and hysterical. There's no reasoning with them."

"What about the original crew? Any decent ones among 'em?" He beckoned Cornwall to follow him as he went to help two men who were struggling with a broken spar. Between them they heaved it over the side.

"Six good ones who are holding their posts. Two who are useless and hiding below, one good but very young. The others OK but scared."

"Right. Split them up to support our crews. They'll know where to find anything we need. Organise pump crews and rotate them every fifteen minutes. We need those running at full capacity." He paused, sniffing the air. Through the rain and salt water spray there was a distinct smell of… smoke! "Get some men below and put that fire out! Last thing we need with hysterical civilians is burning embers flying around. Once you've done that, come back here."

Cornwall saluted smartly. "Yes, sir!"

With a loud snap the last of the rigging on the foremast was released and the sea rising against the hull forced it away. The Captain watched it to make sure they were clear, quietly focusing some of his power on moving it to the stern. The men who'd freed it had the foresail.

"Stretch that out to cover the deck and nail it down. It can help keep us watertight." They quickly set about doing as ordered while he made his way to the ship's wheel where a young man was fighting to control it. He looked astern to see the looming bulk of the Hornet had pulled back a bit, Captain Trace accurately predicting what they would have to do.

"Belay that, with this one we'll be turning into the storm."

"But sir, the Hornet is protecting us. If we heave to we'll lose her protection."

"She's pulled back and if we stay here in these seas she'll bear down on us and turn us into matchwood. Can you rig a sea anchor?"

"I…I've read about it."

"Heaven preserve me from fair weather sailors," the Captain muttered, the derogatory deliberate. "Heave to, I say!" The lad jumped and did as ordered, responding instinctively to the authority in the Captain's voice. Once they were turned close to the wind the Captain ordered the smaller jib hoisted so it could be backwinded, adding his own strength when the men struggled with the rope. Once that was done he patted the young man on the shoulder. "Can you hold her there while I rig the sea anchor?"

"Think so, sir."

"Don't think it, do it. Yell out if you need help."

By the time Cornwall returned from his duties the Captain nearly had the sea anchor ready and quickly explained what was left to do so Cornwall could help. It was a makeshift job but one he'd used before and would hold. Together they heaved it into the water and immediately felt the drag. "Good. That lot should steady us a bit." He pulled out the radio and handed it to Cornwall. "Contact the Hornet, tell them what we're doing. How are the pumps holding up?"

"They're working as hard as they can but the water's rising even so."

The Captain nodded. With the gaps in the deck timbers, probably a result of the strain placed on the ship by the trailing mast, that was inevitable. Now that the foresail was being nailed over the deck he hoped that would reduce the flow. "I'll get a bucket crew to help them out. Ask the Hornet to follow us but keep back. I don't want to risk them running over us in the dark. Once you've done that, find me and we'll see if we can fix some running lights. It'll make it easier for them to see us. In this weather, even that newfangled equipment of theirs would have a hard time spotting us."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Cornwall got on the radio as the Captain went down to organise the buckets, members of the schooner crew quickly finding containers of every description to do the job. After that he helped the men stretch and nail the sail to the deck – a difficult job with the heavy, wet canvas, and slippery nails and hammers, not to mention hands that were quickly going numb with the cold. He called out for more men to help and between them they managed to pull it taught enough and then nailed it into place, the Captain showing the men tricks to ensure the nails held and didn't tear the canvas. A short while later he showed Cornwall and two others how to fix the running lights to maximise their effectiveness. While that was being done he went back to the wheel.

"How are you doing there, lad?"

"Arms are tired, sir."

"Of course. You were fighting her. The way we're rigged now you can go below and she'll be fine. Go on, lad. Get below and warm yourself up. I'll stand watch."

"Aren't you tired, sir?"

He chuckled. "Not yet. Once you've put in a few more years you'll have the muscles and the staying power. No shame, lad. Few seamen can hold their own in a storm like this. Go on, get below."

The young man saluted and scurried to the hatch, disappearing below. The Captain stood with his hands resting on the wheel, less a guide and more a way to feel how the ship was handling the storm. With every sharp rise and crashing fall he felt her shift, adjusting to the water. Closing his eyes he could picture the swells and currents churning beneath the hull and in his mind's eye he could see where the inrush of water would have to go next, allowing him to adjust marginally to smooth their passage. He was still there when Cornwall arrived to report the extra buckets were holding the water level. "Good. Did you organise a quick rotation? Those men will find their arms tiring fast." Cornwall nodded. "Excellent. How are you holding up?"

"Fine, sir. Message from the Hornet. She says the schooner captain has concussion and a broken shoulder, but he's conscious and is expected to make a full recovery."

"Good. Take the helm. Just monitor her. She shouldn't need much guidance but I don't like leaving the wheel unmanned. I'm going to see if I can help those pump crews."

With the Captain's extra powers on the pumps and the sail preventing more seawater getting below, the water level started to drop. Once it was at a satisfactory level he left Paul – who'd been the first to volunteer for duty aboard the schooner – monitoring the crew rotation while he sought out the civilians.

The ship was still heaving, but he could feel the difference between the strained, heavy movements from when he first came aboard and now. The ship felt lighter, rising out of the waves instead of sinking deeper below them, and he patted a bulkhead as he passed. "There you go, old girl. We'll get you to safe harbour," he whispered. Stepping into the galley he found the group of civilians huddled in a corner. Two women, one man and a child were a shivering mass, the fear coming off them in waves. He bent down to the child, a little girl. "Hello there. My name's Captain Gregg. What's yours?"

"Amelia," she whispered.

"Well now, Amelia, this is quite the mess you're in, isn't it?"

She nodded, clinging tightly to her mother. He smiled up at the woman. "Captain Daniel Gregg, at your service, madam. I'm pleased to report we've steadied the ship and the pumps are keeping pace with the water. We may be here for a while, but once the storm's over we'll get you to the Hornet where the doctors can check you all out. Is anyone injured?" The other woman, who identified herself as Helen, indicated her severely swollen ankle. Gently, the Captain lifted her foot and got her to move her toes. "Badly twisted, I think, rather than broken. I'll get a compress sent down. Keep it elevated as much as you can. Anything else?" The man, Tom, showed a bad gash on his arm, but the bleeding had slowed and the wound was starting to clot. "No arteries damaged. You'll need some stitches in that but for now the best we can do is bind it tightly with some clean dressings and put it in a sling. Do you have a first aid box?" Amelia's mother, Clara, pointed him to a cupboard within which lay the first aid box and, on a shelf below it, some flashlights, only one of which had fully charged batteries. Using it he examined the cut closely but could see nothing in the wound that would cause further damage. He quickly collected some gauze and a bandage and went to work. He knew there was a risk of infection but he hadn't the means to clean the wound now. What clean water they had would be needed for the men who were working up quite a thirst on the buckets and pumps, especially if they were to keep this up for several hours, and salt water wasn't guaranteed to be clean, especially with the Hornet nearby. Without a fire there was no means of boiling it, so he did the best he could. Once he'd got the bandage fixed, supporting and elevating the arm with a sling, he advised them to go to their bunks to see out the storm. When Helen struggled he simply lifted her up, grunting when a sharp twinge in his side reminded him theirs weren't the only injuries on board, but he'd had worse. He straightened and carried her to the bunk, putting a couple of rolled up blankets under her leg to keep it elevated.

"Stay down here and I'll send the doctors to you when we're through this. It's going to be rough for a while but don't worry. She's taken a battering but she's solid and will see us to calmer waters." He picked up a pillow and yanked the cover from it and then returned to the top deck. Passing one of the schooner crew he told him to soak the pillow case and take it below as a compress for Helen. The water was certainly cold enough to do the job.

The stinging rain and roaring wind was a sharp reminder they still had a fight ahead of them, but as he watched the bow rise up through another wall of water he realised the storm was lessening, the rumbles of thunder and flashes of lightning growing fewer and farther apart and the wind force turning down a few notches. Easily navigating his way to the wheel he smiled when Cornwall offered it to him.

"Belay that, you're doing just fine where you are." He squinted up at the sky. "Not too bad," he muttered. "Maybe another two hours and we'll be through the worst of it." He turned to Cornwall. "Feeling like an old salt, yet?"

"Honestly? Never felt so much like a seaman in my life."

"Good man! Nothing like a heavy squall to sort the real men out."

Cornwall nodded and straightened. The Captain knew that look. Cornwall had finally found himself and he liked it. He gave the man a pat on the back and stood shoulder to shoulder with him, giving him advice on how to read the sea. Cornwall was a quick study and it occurred to the Captain that in his own time this man would have made a fine first officer.

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Two hours later, as predicted, the storm had nearly blown itself out, and what was left was moving further out to sea. When the clouds parted the Captain estimated angles on the stars. "I make that around 2 bells. We should be back in time for breakfast. Lieutenant, contact the Hornet and ask her to send over one of her boats with some medical personnel. We've some minor injuries below and I'd like to get them to your hospital as soon as I can."

"Yes, sir." He pulled out the radio and the Captain took the wheel while he relayed the information, handing it back to Cornwall when he'd finished. He checked the well and, finding the water levels acceptable, told the men they could lay off and take a well-earned rest. They came up top, stretching as the first pink of dawn rose on the horizon. With his hands behind his back, Captain Gregg nodded in satisfaction. Everyone was safe. The ship would need some significant repairs but she would be fine, the only injuries sustained were minor (including his own) and all of the crew, including Lieutenant Cornwall, had proved themselves exemplary seaman. A very satisfying end. As the first rays of the sun hit his face he was suddenly reminded his illusion had been on hold for most of the night. With a minor effort he put it back in place and then took off his wet weather gear, happy to stride the deck in his normal seafarer's garb. He was sure Captain Trace would be annoyed with him for not wearing his life-vest, but he'd managed aboard ships like these without one for a lifetime and he wasn't about to change his habits now. He was watching the clouds dissipate when little Amelia climbed up through the hatch and ran over to him, wrapping her arms around his leg.

"Hello, young lady," he smiled. He gently disentangled himself and then lowered to one knee to be level with her. "Feeling better?"

She nodded and flung her arms around his neck. With a chuckle he returned the hug and then looked up to see Clara and Tom emerging. Helen, he knew, would remain below until the medics arrived.

"Captain Gregg," Clara said, walking up to him. "I found this and I believe it's rightfully yours." She handed over a blue peaked cap with the word Captain picked out in gold thread surrounded by a laurel, a gold ribbon just above the visor. With a grin he tried it on. It fit perfectly.

"Thank you. I'll hand it to your captain when we get aboard the Hornet."

"Like I said, I think it really belongs to you," and with that she reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thank you, Captain. I'll never be able to repay you. This will make quite the story when it hits the papers."

He quickly raised his hand. "If you don't mind, no. I would prefer it if we kept this under our," and he tapped his headgear, "hats. Thank the crew of the Hornet. All volunteers for this mission and every one of them performed superbly. I'd rather you forgot I was here. How's Helen?"

"She fell asleep when everything quietened down. I think she's all right. The compress helped and she sends her thanks."

"Tom," he nodded to the man who now stood alongside. "How's the arm?"

"Throbbing, but I'll live. Are you a doctor when you're not sailing ships?"

The Captain smiled and shook his head. "Just a dad with accident prone children," _and several years' experience dealing with sailors when good doctors were hard to come by_ , but he kept that to himself. "My son is commander aboard the Hornet."

"Then he must be very proud of you."

"I'm proud of him."

Cornwall stepped up and saluted. "Sir, the Hornet relief boat crew asks permission to moor alongside and come aboard." Seeing they might get in the way the civilians moved off.

"Permission granted. You did well, lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir. Your wife was right." When the Captain raised an eyebrow he added, "You deserved a second chance. I was…"

The man was proud and the Captain knew how it felt to have to admit you were wrong. He saved him the job. "We all make mistakes, lieutenant. I know I have made a few in my time. Far too many, if I'm honest about it."

Cornwall cocked his head to one side. "You know, your accent has changed."

Blast! Being aboard the ship and with everything else he had to think about, maintaining his persona as writer Callahan had gone completely out of his head. Too late, now. "In Ireland you have to keep up appearances," he bluffed. "Here I felt like myself for the first time in years. You'll have to keep my secret, lieutenant. Everyone knows me as an Irish writer."

"And one much older than you looked when we were fighting our way through that storm."

This was fast getting dangerous. "Lieutenant Cornwall…"

"As it happens," the man interrupted, "I read The Great Ghost Gregg. Commander Muir had talked so much about the sea Captain who built his house that I was curious. I thought Callahan had hit the poitín too hard, but there were one or two bits that rang true, so I did some digging. Captain Gregg is in the library."

"I… uh, _he_ is?"

The side of Cornwall's mouth quirked up at the slip. "When you came aboard I thought the writer was getting ideas above his station, but watching you last night and looking at you now, I think I have the honour of talking to the real Captain Gregg. Only a true seafarer could have taken control the way you did."

Uncomfortable, the Captain tugged the peak of his cap down, shadowing his eyes – the one part of his appearance he could not change. "Don't be ridiculous, lieutenant. I just channelled what I thought the original Captain Gregg would do in this situation and added it to my own experience. Any decent seaman would have done the same. I was lucky, that's all."

"Rigging a sea anchor using 19th century techniques in record breaking time at the height of a storm? Smashing into the mast and taking a 15 foot fall and landing without a scratch…?"

He rubbed his side, which was starting to throb despite his efforts. "I think I cracked a rib."

"Captain, when we get to port I'll be leaving the navy. We all know it's not for me. I've been fighting it for years and it never worked out. Last night, for the first time in my life, I felt I was where I belonged. It's as if I'd been wasting my time up until that moment and suddenly everything fell into place. I think I might settle in Maine. If you should need a first mate aboard your ship…" The Captain looked at him sharply. "I'll keep your secret, Captain, no matter what happens. You earned that. But I would welcome the chance to learn more, if you'd be willing to teach me? I think I could learn a lot from you."

Captain Gregg looked Cornwall up and down. He'd acquitted himself well, been completely professional and kept a cool head when many were losing theirs. The Captain had taken worse and moulded them into good seamen. "No more fights?"

Cornwall had the grace to look sheepish. "Can't guarantee that. I'm Boston-Irish. Kinda in the blood."

The Captain laughed. "When you get your discharge, come and find me in Schooner Bay. We'll talk about it then."

"Really?"

The Captain nodded, then raised a finger, "But no promises. A trial basis to begin with."

Cornwall saluted. "Thank you, Captain Gregg." He nodded to the relief boat that was coming alongside. "I'll see to getting the civilians off the ship."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," the Captain replied, returning the salute. "Carry on."

The Hornet's relief boat moored alongside and the crew rushed to tie it off, allowing a stretcher to get below to fetch Helen while another medic examined Tom's wound. A relief crew also piled aboard, led by Captain Moore. The Captain quickly briefed his replacement on the status of the schooner and after a last look around he climbed into the boat to be carried back to the Hornet. Once they docked in the Hornet's massive wet bay he removed the cap and put it under his arm before heading up to the bridge. He knew Captain Trace would want a full report and he wanted to make sure the volunteer crew's actions were properly recognised. It would be easy enough to write up – something he had done many times before – but when he reached the bridge it was to find Carolyn looking somewhat irate.

"If you EVER do that to me again, Daniel Gregg, I swear I will kick you clear across Schooner Bay!"

"Carolyn, I…" Before he could say another word, she had crossed the bridge and flung her arms around his neck. "You damned stupid, stubborn, brave man!"

All around the crew clapped as Daniel pulled back and looked at her. "Madam," he whispered, "damned is hardly a lady's word!" When she opened her mouth to tell him what she thought of that he quickly pulled her into a kiss, effectively smothering her protests. With his arms wrapped around her he was dimly aware that a few whistles had been added to the applause but he ignored it. When finally he pulled back it was to see Jonathan waiting behind his mother.

"Way to go, dad! I knew you could do it!"

Reaching out the Captain grasped his son's hand and squeezed it. When Carolyn released him long enough to move to his side Captain Trace stepped up and, aware that this man was his commanding officer for this mission, Daniel drew himself to attention and saluted. Trace returned the salute and then clapped him on the shoulder. "Well done, Captain Gregg. If anyone doubted your right to that title they cannot do so now. Why, even Lieutenant Cornwall has been singing your praises."

"We've only just got back," he protested, the mention of the lieutenant's name reminding him to keep Sean's accent in place.

"He had the radio, Captain. As well as reporting as you requested he gave us a blow by blow of what you did. At some point you can explain to me how you could drop over fifteen feet onto a heaving deck and not break every bone in your body."

Carolyn looked up at him sharply. That one was going to haunt him. "Oh, the ship was rising up as I was comin' down. It only looked that high when I started. By the end it was probably only five feet and I think I cracked a rib, so I didn't get away Scot free."

"I see," Trace replied, not looking remotely convinced. "When can I have your report?"

"I can type it up now. Probably better to get it down while it's fresh. I'm sure Carolyn could help me. I admit, for a writer I'm not as fast a typist as I should be."

"I doubt your wife will relish hearing how you risked life and limb. Commander Muir, would you ask Ensign Applegate to join us?"

Captain Gregg's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Applegate?! Surely that sorry excuse for a spirit hadn't managed to get aboard another ship? And an Ensign? How could that worthless idiot ever achieve any rank, especially as a ghost? Thankfully, when Ensign Applegate arrived _she_ introduced herself as being from the admin department. If the Captain could give her the verbal report she would type it up for him.

"Better go with him to the hospital, Ensign," Trace added. "He'll need an x-ray on that rib."

Carolyn brushed the hair from his forehead and frowned. "On this, too," she said, her fingers lightly touching a cut in his hairline. He winced, unaware until that moment that he'd had the injury. "You must have been bleeding for a while."

"In that rain, who would know?"

"Can you find your way to the hospital?" Trace asked. When the Captain nodded he said, "then get to it. I'll expect your report by the end of the day."

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The rib was cracked, but all that could be sensibly offered were some painkillers until it healed itself. The Captain's skull proved thick enough and the cut was healing so the doctor kept to a band-aid to keep it protected. The Captain relayed the report in the clean, unembellished language such things required, earning him a raised eyebrow from Carolyn who insisted on remaining with him. Ensign Susan Applegate declared it the easiest report she'd ever had to write up, handing him the form to sign at the end. Once he'd been declared fit to 'return to duty', a phrase the doctor delivered with much relish, he went to check on the other wounded.

Helen's ankle had indeed been a severe sprain and she smiled at him happily from her bed. Pointing at her elevated leg with the cold compress she said, "Could have stayed on the schooner!"

The schooner captain, his head bandaged and shoulder strapped up, tried to sit up as the Captain neared him but Daniel insisted he stay where he was. "Captain Harrison, sir. Thank you for saving my ship and crew. From what the others tell me you did a very fine job. I'm sure the Marlin will be repaired and back at sea in no time."

"The Marlin?" So that was the name of her. He'd been so busy he hadn't had time to find out such niceties. He exchanged a look with Carolyn who grinned.

"And once again Daniel Gregg saves the Marlin," she muttered.

Tom hailed them over and pointed to his arm. "All repaired. Fourteen stitches. I'll have a scar to tell about when I get home."

"Not too many tall tales, love," Clara added from her position at his side. "I told my husband you wanted to be left out of it, Captain."

"Stupid, if you ask me, but Clara says she won't talk to me if I blab so I'll do as you ask."

"How did ya get the cut in the first place?" the Captain asked.

"I was trying to get Amelia into the harness to get her off the ship when the mast came down. Must've got caught by the broken spar or something. With the captain unconscious I didn't know what I was doing. One of the Hornet's crew helped so we could get Captain Harrison in the harness, but when I saw him only just missing being impaled on the main mast I completely lost it. Bit of a coward, I'm afraid."

The Captain shook his head. "Far from it. Ya focussed on getting the child off before yerself, helped get the captain off and then looked after your family. That's a hero in my book."

Tom sat a little straighter and Clara smiled and mouthed a thank you to the Captain.

"Well, I'm glad ta see you're all well," he said, emphasizing the accent. "I'm going to me cabin to get some sleep. Been a long night." He waved and, with Carolyn at his side, headed back to their quarters, passing Lieutenant Cornwall on the way out. Cornwall smiled and saluted.

"Captain Gregg, Mrs Gregg. Thought I'd check on the injuries before heading for my bunk."

"I'm sure they'll be glad to see you, lieutenant."

"Mrs Gregg, you were right. Your husband is an astonishing man."

Carolyn patted her husband's arm. "You don't know the half of it," she replied.

Cornwall smiled and gave Captain Gregg a wink. "I'm sure I don't," he said and walked over to Harrison.

As the Captain and Carolyn left, Tom frowned. "Funny. Could've sworn he had an English accent when we were aboard the Marlin."

Lieutenant Cornwall chuckled. "Captain Gregg is the writer, Sean Callahan. He wrote The Great Ghost Gregg. Quite the read if you have the chance. Turns out he's actually a direct descendent of that sea captain. I think when he was aboard the schooner he channelled his ancestor, but trust me, he's an Irishman through and through."

"Is that why he didn't want us to tell anyone what he did?" Clara asked, "Because he's a writer?"

"Writers need their privacy, or so I'm told. His wife's a writer too. Carolyn Muir."

"Oh," Harrison cried, thumping the bed with his good arm, "I read her book about the sea captain. ' _Blood and Swash_ ' it was called. Heck of a story. You can tell her husband must've helped her with the writing. No woman could write like that!"

Clara shook her head. "You're too old fashioned, Captain Harrison. Women can do anything they want to!"

"Does that mean I could be a sea captain like Captain Gregg?" Amelia asked.

Cornwall chuckled. "I don't think anyone could be quite like Captain Gregg," he said, but seeing Amelia's disappointment he quickly added, "That doesn't mean you can't be a sea captain. I'm sure it'll happen one of these days."


	6. Chapter 6

"Easy does it," Carolyn said as she helped the Captain remove his sweat-soaked clothes. She took in the bruise across his side. "That's going to smart for a while."

"Not the sort of injury you want on a honeymoon," he admitted, "but I'm sure I can work around it."

" **We** can," she insisted. "There are two of us in this, remember? Sit down." He lowered himself to the bed and she bent down to remove his boots. "Just like in Maiden Voyage," she grinned.

"Except there I didn't have a shower or a comfortable double bed," he said, a yawn distorting his words. He was now struggling to stay awake.

"Do you need some help in the shower?"

"I'll manage. I shan't be long." He made his way to the bathroom, the slowness of his gait betraying his exhaustion.

"You'll sleep for a week!"

"Hardly," he called back over the sound of the shower. "Give me a few hours and I will be as good as new."

"You're human now, Daniel. It takes longer to recover."

"If I sleep the day away I will be up all night. Just set an alarm."

Shaking her head Carolyn settled down at the desk with the intention of making some notes, but the images of his brush with disaster, as recorded in the report and the bruises on his body, kept intruding violently into her thoughts. A few minutes later he emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, to see her staring blankly into space.

"Out of ideas?" he asked.

"Too many of them," she said, turning to face him. "If you had been killed I don't know how I would have explained my appearance."

"Oh," he replied, "is _that_ all that was worrying you?" He gave her a look she'd dubbed 'hurt puppy dog smile' and eased himself into bed.

"The first I knew you were all right was when I felt you change how I looked at about 5.30 this morning. Up until then I was up, pacing this room and worried sick, but there was nothing I could do about it." She threw her hands up in frustration. "If you're out of commission or distracted there's no way I can help. I can't talk to anyone, go anywhere… You could be dying and I can't lift a finger to help you. We have **got** to find a way around this."

He yawned again. "We will, but can we think about it later?"

"What if someone calls while you're asleep? It's day now."

"They won't," he assured her, his eyes closed. "Jonathan knows and he will make sure we are left alone until I have recovered. Besides, you were up all night too. You can't tell me you aren't tired." He patted the bed beside him, his slow movements indicating he was struggling to stay awake. "Set the alarm and join me."

With a sigh she conceded defeat. She _was_ tired, that much was true. Also angry, frightened, frustrated and half a dozen other emotions, but as she watched his face relax into sleep she realised there was nothing either of them could do about it now. She set the alarm for five hours' time, checked the door was locked and settled down beside him.

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When the alarm went off Carolyn quickly silenced it and looked across at her husband. He was still out cold and in the same position he had been when he first lay down. With the sheet around his waist she could see the bruising, which had now spread to cover half his chest. She shook her head and got out of bed to fetch water and painkillers, which she put on the table on his side. When he woke up she suspected it would be the first thing he would need.

She got dressed and then retrieved the computer. It took her a while to figure out how to set it all up, but the cabling had been made to fit specific holes so by a process of elimination she managed to connect it all and turn it on. The beep as it confirmed it was active was quite loud in the quiet room but had no effect on the Captain. She waited for it to finish what the seaman who installed it had called 'booting up' and wondered if there was any way she could get some coffee to turbo-charge her brain. There was a knock at the door. Still Daniel slept.

Faking sleepiness (not hard without her caffeine fix) she took her time before answering. "Who is it?" she said, pressing her ear to the door but leaving it locked.

"It's Jonathan."

"Oh thank god!" She quickly unlocked the door to see her son standing on the other side with two large containers of her dreamt-of brew. "You life saver!" Quickly she ushered him in and re-locked the door.

"I thought you could use some of this," he smiled, handing her the cup. She grabbed it and drank greedily. "Yep, nothing ever changes does it? How's dad?"

"Trying to sleep," the man in question replied groggily. "Slim chance of that between the alarm, beeping computer and visitors." He yawned and then stalled, placing his hand on his side. "Ouch!"

"Painkillers are right there," Carolyn supplied, nodding to the table beside him.

He quickly downed them and then eased himself upright gingerly and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I wonder if there is a bone or muscle in my body that doesn't ache right now?"

"The cost of being human," Jonathan observed.

"Indeed. How did you know to come here now?"

"I didn't, but the Captain is planning on paying you a visit and I thought I'd best make sure you were in a position to receive him, hence…" and he waved the second container in the Captain's direction.

"Thanks, lad. Do you mind…?"

Jonathan stood up and handed it over, observing the bruise on his father. "Ouch, that one is gonna smart."

"Exactly what I told him."

"Honourably earned," the Captain insisted with a wink to Jonathan. "And besides, what's life without a few bruises?"

"Less painful?" Carolyn replied with a smirk.

He shook his head. "I have to be alive to feel like this, or so I will keep telling myself until it goes away." He took a mouthful of his drink. "How's the schooner?"

"Limping back to port. We're towing her part of the way with one of the rescue boats but we can't take her all the way in. They're only designed for short hops. We've alerted the coastguard to send out someone when she gets close enough."

The Captain nodded, finished his coffee and slowly rose to his feet. "I'd best get dressed. Can't greet the captain looking like this." He grabbed some clean clothes and headed for the bathroom. "Any idea what he wants?"

"He didn't tell me. I did remind him this is your honeymoon, so if he was planning on asking you to take the schooner back he could forget it."

"Not in so many words, I hope?" he replied, his voice echoing in the bathroom.

"It was tempting, but no."

"Always show respect to your officers, lad. Especially when they're good ones."

"Like you did to Captain Figg?" Carolyn replied, winking at Jonathan.

"That pernicious scoundrel? A rat could not have shown him respect!" There was a pause and then, "Blast!"

"What's wrong?"

He stepped out of the bathroom, his socks and boots in his hand. "I can't bend over enough to put these on."

Carolyn smiled. "Give them here. Sit down." She helped him get them on, giving the second boot a pat once she'd finished. "All done."

"Are we fit to receive?"

"Almost," Carolyn replied, pointing to her face.

"Ah."

A second later they were looking their older selves.

"I'd better leave you to it. My duty starts in fifteen minutes." With a quick kiss for his mother Jonathan left. A few minutes after that there was another knock at the door. The Captain rose and answered it.

"Daniel, Carolyn. I hope you don't mind me dropping by. I was reading your report, Captain Gregg, and I have a few questions."

"Oh?" the Captain said, wondering if he'd missed something.

"Would you like me to leave?" Carolyn asked, rising.

"No, I have a feeling this concerns you, too."

She looked at her husband, who could provide no explanation, and resumed her seat.

"It's a funny thing," Trace said, looking hard at Daniel, "I'm a man of the sea, used to hearing all sorts of strange things, but I'm also a man of science, used to examining things and looking for evidence. The evidence has been there all along, it just took time to… crystallize? Not sure if that's the word I'm looking for."

Carolyn reached over for Daniel's hand, wondering where this was going.

"I have an excellent commander who knows more than any man his age should unless he's spent his entire life with a seaman, but he was raised by his mother, alone. I have a writer who writes naval reports better than many of my own officers, and knows how to rig a sea anchor in a way not seen since the 19th century. A man in his sixties who survived a fifteen foot fall," he raised his hand as Daniel opened his mouth, "I would remind you there were three radios over there – a fifteen foot fall onto a shifting deck without harm. A man who looked younger when he was working through the night, but older now. A man who changes his accent from Irish to a rather old-fashioned English and back again. I have an interesting newspaper article from a wedding that happened a few days ago that says a man claimed the groom had been taken over by the ghost of a sea captain. Now all of this…" He raised his voice as Daniel tried to interrupt, "ALL of this could be put down to a whole raft of things were it not for this." And he opened the folder in his hand and pulled out an x-ray. "You see, the writer who got married had been dying of cancer just a few months before and had a miraculous recovery. Not unheard of. What is unheard of is a man suffering from lung cancer for over two years who, on X-ray, shows not the slightest evidence of scar tissue or any of the damage associated with that disease. A man in his sixties whose body is that of a man in his forties." He looked at Carolyn. "And none of this surprises you in the slightest, does it?"

Carolyn looked at her husband, urging him to come up with some kind of explanation, but in the face of Trace's evidence there seemed little they could do. Daniel sighed, looking at the X-ray. "I cannot be expected to know everything," he said, and waved his hand. Instantly their older appearance faded away to reveal their true faces.

Trace raised his eyebrows and sat back. "OK, that one's new. So, **did** you murder Callahan?"

"Sean Callahan is, if not exactly alive and well, existing and very happy," Daniel assured him, "but this is going to take a while to explain."

"The sea is calm, my officers are capable and I have all the time in the world." He stood up and opened the door. Outside there were two armed men standing guard. He turned to one of them. "Grab me three coffees, and ask Commander Muir to report to me."

"Daniel, what are we going to do?" Carolyn whispered.

"Tell him the truth, 'though I doubt he will believe it."

"Is there any way we can prove it to him? Get Sean here?"

"My dear, even when I was a ghost with over a hundred years' experience, targeting a ship in the Atlantic out of sight of land would have been beyond me, and Sean has rather less experience to call on. Remember, to come with you to Ireland I had to hitch a ride on the aircraft."

"Perhaps we could get Sean on the telephone? I know you used them from time to time when you needed Claymore and they have satellite phones on board."

"And how is the captain to know he's talking to a spirit across a telephone line?"

Captain Trace closed the door and looked at them. "Coffee should be here shortly, together with your son, Mrs Gregg."

"Jonathan is nothing to do with it! He is who he appears to be and he worked hard to get here. Please don't make him pay for anything we've done," Carolyn implored. She turned to Daniel, her whole body shaking. "Daniel, what can they do? They can't take Jonathan's career away from him! He's worked so hard!"

She was starting to well up, fear for her family destabilising her usually unflappable self, and Daniel took her face in his hands. "Nothing will happen to Jonathan. He has been completely honourable and above board, earning everything he has. We have done nothing wrong except hidden ourselves because we knew no one would understand, and tried to get on with our lives. I will not allow anyone to hurt you or the children, ever." He turned to Trace who was watching them carefully. "Captain, you are upsetting my wife and that I will not allow."

A knock on the door heralded the arrival of Jonathan who entered carrying the coffees. He took one look at his parents and sat down heavily.

"Commander Muir. Since you are not surprised by their appearance I take it you're in on this too?"

"I know what happened, yes, sir."

"As it seems I'm the only one in the room out of the loop, perhaps you'd care to fill me in?"

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Once the entire story had been told Captain Trace's head was spinning. "Either all three of you are completely insane – and Jonathan here has never struck me as that – or you're telling the truth, as fantastic as it sounds. You're the actual Captain Daniel Gregg, the hero of Vera Cruz?"

"I am."

"That explains your seamanship and makes rather more sense of some of the stories you told. You adjusted them, didn't you?"

"Most happened over one hundred and twenty years ago. There were a few more recent ones."

"Wow. Excuse me for a moment." He went to the door and opened it. "You're dismissed, gentlemen. We won't be needing you."

"You're sure, sir?"

"Absolutely."

The two guards marched off and Carolyn breathed a sigh of relief. "That's a good sign, right?" she whispered.

"I should say so," Daniel replied equally quietly.

Trace closed the door and leaned against it. "And this trick with your appearance. That is Sean Callahan's body, but the… the…"

"Leprechaun," Daniel supplied helpfully.

"Yes, I'm still trying to get my head around that, although why that should be harder than anything else you've told me I don't know. The Leprechaun restored you to how you both looked twenty years ago when you first met?" All three nodded. "And it's you, Captain Gregg, with some magic he left you that allows you to adjust your appearance?" The Captain waved his hand and the two looked older. With another wave they were restored. "Anything else you want to show me?"

"I'm a sea captain, not a conjurer!"

"Daniel…" Carolyn warned.

"I won't be turned into some sort of travelling side show act! Either the man believes me or he doesn't."

"No, quite right, quite right," Trace agreed, sitting down again. He stared at the floor for some time.

"Well? Out with it, man!" the Captain said, any pretence that he was anything but the original Captain Gregg thrown aside. "Do you believe us?"

"I do," Trace replied. "What I'm thinking is how can we cover all this up? You want your privacy, and you've a right to that, but how can we hide the evidence? I can't just destroy X-rays."

"I can," the Captain replied, but before he could do anything Trace shook his head. "They'll demand another one to replace it."

"No problem there, in fact, that would be advantageous. Now I know there was supposed to be scar tissue I can make it appear on the X-ray."

Trace frowned. "You can make blood change and scar tissue appear on lungs, but you can't heal a cracked rib or bruising?"

"Those are mere illusions. This," and he indicated his side, "is real. If I can prepare for something I can limit the damage, as I did with the jump from your helicopter, but this body can be injured the same as any other and the incident with the mast occurred so fast I did not have time to brace myself."

"Hmm. We can't just rip this up." He tapped the X-ray. The Captain waved his hand and the image on the sheet fogged over. "An illusion?"

"Photographic images are remarkably easy to spoil. They are inherently unstable because of the way they are produced. A minor change in chemical composition produces a cascade effect that destroys the image. Why do you think there are so few pictures of ghosts, and the ones that do exist are always poor?"

"And how am I going to explain this to the radiologist?"

"Unstable chemical mix. A bad batch. Tell your radiologist that when you opened the envelope, this is what you found. Best throw it out and start over. I can come with you and offer to have the X-ray taken again. Of course, it would help if I could see what lung scar tissue from cancer looks like first."

"There'll be a book on that in the library," Jonathan offered.

"Good idea, Commander. Go fetch it."

Jonathan hurried out the door and Trace lifted his cup to his lips. After a moment he lowered it again. "Damn! Shouldn't have sent those guards away."

"Why?" Daniel asked, worried the man was changing his mind.

"Because I need another cup of coffee. I don't suppose you can magic that up?"

Before Daniel could pass comment, Carolyn said, "Believe me, Captain, if he could he would have been doing it for me years ago. I practically inhale the stuff."

Trace laughed. "Know what you mean. Once we get this X-ray out of the way I can brush over the rest of it. Something you might find of interest, the one person who reported nothing out of the ordinary after you dropped on the ship was Lieutenant Cornwall. He had only good things to say about you. When I asked him about your change in appearance he said he'd seen nothing of the kind and insisted it was a trick of the light. You seem to have got another supporter, Daniel."

"Lieutenant Cornwall did spot it all and called me on it, but he promised me he would keep my secret. Can I trust you will do the same?"

"Captain, if I even suggested any of this to my superiors I'd be locked up faster than you can say lunatic and they'd throw away the key. Men in my position aren't supposed to believe in leprechauns, ghosts or miracles. And if they did believe me, you would quickly become that side show you mentioned. I wouldn't do that to you. You've proven yourself too good a man. You've entertained my officers, saved one of my crew, saved a ship and all souls aboard… What sort of a man would I be if repaid you for all that by taking away your freedom? You're hardly a threat to national security. In fact, I'd say anyone who threatened America with you around would soon find themselves regretting they'd ever been born." He leaned forward. "May I, however, ask a favour?"

"If it is within my power to grant," the Captain replied levelly.

"May I visit you when I next get shore-leave? I know I could learn so much from you and I'd love to hear more of your stories… set in the right time period!"

The Captain laughed. "Lieutenant Cornwall said almost exactly the same thing."

"You may be inhabiting a writer's body, and I've no doubt you write well, although I only have your report to go on, but you're a sea captain. What are you going to do now?"

"I've been thinking about that the entire trip."

"Then may I make a suggestion?"

"By all means."

"We get so many budding young officers who have done the paperwork but haven't got a true grasp of what it means to be in a real seaman. Every man on the schooner said you were the best captain they'd ever met and my officers learned so much just listening to you. I must admit, listening to the praise they heaped on you I did feel a bit resentful, but now I know you have over a hundred years' experience on me, I don't feel so bad about it. Why not get a schooner or even a fully rigged tall ship and offer tuition to the navy on traditional seamanship? I would happily support your application and I know my officers would back me. Your actions on the schooner would prove your credentials and you could write your own training, giving them not just what they're supposed to know, but the stuff they **need** to know. The stuff that isn't in the books but marks the difference between a good officer and a truly outstanding one. And not just for cadets. I know my own officers would leap at the chance to study with you and I can guarantee the word would get around quickly. What do you think?"

"I don't know," the Captain replied, looking at Carolyn. "I have finally found a reason to stay ashore, and maintaining our appearance is harder if we are too far from each other. I spent over a hundred years' looking for my wife. I do not want to waste a moment of the time we have together."

"The most you'd have these men, and now the women who are coming through the ranks, would be a couple of weeks. You could spend some of that ashore and the rest aboard ship and you could space them out. The navy would help you build a training school with proper facilities. Over time, some of the people who train with you could be assigned to you permanently through the navy so you'd have a crew _you_ trained sailing _your_ ship but you wouldn't be paying them. In your downtime that ship would be available to you, maintained by the navy. All the worst parts of being a captain such as the outlay, maintenance, paperwork and the rest would be handled by the navy. All you would have to do is training."

Carolyn could see the Captain was giving this some serious thought, but the idea of being trapped in the house for days at a time because he was away at sea did not appeal in the slightest. Even a writer needed to get out from time to time, and as much she had enjoyed this trip, the Hornet was a completely different beast to even the fully rigged tall ship Trace had suggested.

The Captain looked at his wife and could almost see the thoughts rushing through her head. If he were single this would be the chance of a lifetime, but to give up what he finally had after waiting so long was asking too much.

"Captain Trace, I am mindful of the incredible opportunity, but I need time to think about it and I wish to spend a few years with my wife first. I will be getting a ship, we'd already decided that, and you and your officers will be welcome to come aboard and perhaps learn some traditional skills if they've a mind, but the idea you suggest is a mammoth undertaking and would leave my wife alone and trapped for days at a time. I cannot do that to her. In time she may well find my constant presence an annoyance, at which point the school could become a welcome respite for her, but for the immediate future I have some catching up to do."

"What will you do?"

"A sailing ship, even one in decent repair, needs constant maintenance. I can do that in Schooner Bay and easily stay within reach so that Carolyn is free to move about as she wishes. I am not so foolish as to think she would want me underfoot twenty-four hours a day. It would not suit either of us."

A knock on the door announced Jonathan's return. "Sorry it took me so long. Had to find good images. I think I've got just the thing." He opened the book at a page showing X-ray plates of damaged lungs. Immediately the Captain could see what he needed to do.

"I believe I am ready for the new X-ray, captain," he smiled.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

When he returned over an hour later Carolyn looked up from the work she was using to distract herself. "How did it go?"

"The radiologist was confused, but she couldn't deny what was on the plate. She said the first one must have been due to the faulty batch and threw the lot out." He sat down on the bed, a satisfied smile on his face.

Carolyn rose from her chair and sat down beside him. "Is this our life, now? Always looking over our shoulders for fear someone discovers our secret? Daniel, I'm not sure I can live like that."

He sobered. "I know. It has been hard, but we kept the secret of the spirit of Gull Cottage all those years. There were suspicions but most didn't know."

"Yes, but a haunted house is different. Every time this comes up the immediate thought is that you must have murdered Sean."

"Then when we get back to Schooner Bay the first thing we must do is find out where Blair got his information and put a stop to it at source. If we can force a retraction that should put the worst of it behind us. After that it will be merely a question of maintaining appearances. I was remiss when I was commanding the Marlin through that storm, but I have learned and I will not make that mistake again." He took in her expression. "You're not regretting marrying me, are you?"

"Oh no. I could never do that. It's a dream come true, quite literally. I just never imagined it would come with so many strings attached. It feels like it's us against the rest of the world, Daniel. We can't win against such odds. There will always be someone nosing into our business and trying to catch us out. I just want to be happy with you."

He wrapped his arm around her, rocking her gently as he thought through their problem. There had to be a solution.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

They were only a day and a half from port and the Captain was still wrestling with their problem when Captain Trace found him on the flight deck staring out to sea.

"Penny for them?"

The Captain blew out a breath. "I believe inflation would require several thousand."

"I noticed Carolyn seemed distracted at dinner."

"She's worried."

"Oh?"

"Three times in less than a week our secret got out. We still do not know who told Blair to interrupt the wedding, but I am afraid the other two were due to my error. I have been a spirit for a long time and could always remain hidden, only revealing myself to those I wished to see or hear me. Now I seem to be incapable of the most basic deception."

"Not altogether a bad thing. You're an honest man."

"Yes, but in this case honesty is not the best policy. I find I am now doubting whether I can secure my own house."

"I thought that man Claymore has it because he was the only identifiable descendent?" The Captain growled, but the subject of Claymore's right to the Gregg name had been a source of dinner table conversation and Trace already knew his feelings on the matter. "Since you're a direct descendent rather than a distant one, surely that should make it easy?"

"It should, but I now realise he could use it against me. The moment he learns I am the real Captain Gregg he could use that to tighten his hold on Gull Cottage, blackmailing us by threatening to tell the press Blair's accusations are true, and we have already established I am…not good at pretending to be anyone but myself for any length of time." He folded his arms, lost in thought.

"Seems to me, what you need are allies."

"Yes, and they're few and far between."

"Not so few and a lot closer than you think."

"Hmm?"

"You have an entire US Navy warship on your side. Surely that's big enough to fight one nephew?"

The Captain snorted. "As tempting as it is to send that briny bilge barnacle into his next incarnation, I think the joint chiefs might have something to say about this ship blowing him to kingdom come."

"The thing about having a very powerful weapon, Daniel, is that you don't have to use it. The mere threat is often enough to keep the peace."

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

The Captain remained on deck for many hours, pacing or staring out to sea. Trace's comment had struck home. Claymore had always been terrified less because of anything the Captain had done and more because of threats he was, in all honesty, unlikely to carry out. So long as the man believed it possible, that was all that mattered. He checked the time. It would be 8 bells shortly and, based on his calculations of their position, that made it somewhere between 8 and 9 am in Ireland. Time to make a call.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Sean couldn't help laughing as he listened to the Captain's idea once Katherine had alerted him to the call. "Oh, this'll be a grand one! We'll be there." He put the phone down.

"Got to be a first," Katherine commented drily. "Long distance ghost to ghost."

"What did the Captain want?" Rowena asked.

"Tell me, me darlin', have ya ever had a hankerin' to visit America?"

"Already? I thought we were going to let them have their honeymoon first!"

Sarah appeared beside them. "America? May I come?"

"Aye, the more the merrier." He outlined the problems the Captain had and the solution he'd come up with for one of them.

"I have always wanted to visit America," Sarah sighed. "After I died, my young man left Ireland to seek his fortune there."

"Many did, as I recall. That was during the Potato Famine, wasn't it?"

"Aye, but we had talked of travelling there before. He made it sound a glorious place where we could find a better life. I took the position here so that we could raise the money for passage."

"At least this time that won't be a problem," Katherine smiled.

"And the Captain tells me once ya make the journey and fix ya bearings, ya can pop back and forth, so this'll make a grand opportunity to mark our home base over there for other trips," Sean said with a grin.

"How long will you be gone?" Katherine asked as Seamus walked in with a delivery of sign holders they would be filling with information for the tourists. "We still need some help writing these up." She pointed to the pile of cards they'd been working on when the call came. "I'd feel terrible if we got something wrong, especially given…" she waved her hand to indicate the support of the castle spirits that had allowed them to cut research time to a fraction of what it would be normally. Once one of the spirits told them some fact or other they had only to find documentary evidence to support it, rather than trying to discover the facts themselves.

"Daniel and I will stay here," Katriona assured her. "Cannae leave the castle without a ghost!"

"In that case, Rowena," he held out his elbow, "Sarah," he held out his other arm. "Would ya care ta join me in a trip to the airport?"

The three linked arms, Sean's thorough knowledge of the airport from many trips when he was alive allowing him to ferry them there with ease.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

The ship had docked and the Captain and Carolyn were bidding their farewells to the crew.

"It seems Lieutenant Cornwall will be joining you shortly," Trace commented. The Captain nodded. "I'll be sorry to see him go. Since the schooner he's been an exemplary officer. You brought about quite the change in that man. Had you done it sooner he would probably have had the commander's position before now."

"And then we would have put my son out of a job," Carolyn replied. "It all works out in the end." She planted a kiss on Trace's cheek.

"True, and I wouldn't have missed meeting you for anything. It's been quite the trip. I have some paperwork to deal with…"

"Don't we always?" the Captain commented, knowing full well the tedium of dealing with that particular bane of modern society when a ship first docked in port.

"As reliable as death and taxes," Trace agreed. "But after that I can take my shore leave. I'm afraid my marriage didn't survive my long stays at sea so I'm free to come straight to you in Schooner Bay. I must admit, after my divorce I had less reason to go ashore, so I am owed some. Captain Moore and a few of the other senior officers inform me it's about time I took them, so I'm at your disposal. We have a refit that will take some time and Captain Moore can call me when we get our new orders. Tomorrow? Give you time to unpack."

"That will be perfect," Carolyn assured him. "Will you be all right dropping off those papers on your way? We won't have time before we meet with Claymore."

"Consider it done."

"And you have the map to get to Gull Cottage?"

He patted his pocket. "Safe and sound. Have a good journey home. Captain." He saluted and the Captain smiled and returned it. "It's been a pleasure and an honour serving with you, sir."

"And for me," the Captain replied.

"Oh, Captain Harrison asked me to return this." He handed over the Captain's cap Clara had given him on the Marlin. "He says you earned it and he can easily get another."

The Captain considered the headgear. "Strictly speaking, Mark, I'm not entitled to that. Sean Callahan never captained a ship in his life, as you well know." Once Trace knew the truth the Captain had been completely honest about the way they'd changed the writer's backstory to explain his seaman's knowledge, but Trace had understood completely and brushed it aside.

"But Daniel Gregg captained the Marlin through a vicious storm and will soon have his new command, I'm sure." When the Captain still hesitated, he shook his head and handed it to Carolyn. "When this proud fool gets his ship, give it back to him, will you?"

The Captain blustered but Carolyn quickly calmed him. "I will, Mark. I'm used to dealing with Daniel's sense of honour."

"Madam!" the Captain cried, reverting to his old form of address in his outrage.

Trace laughed. "You've got yourself a good one there, Daniel. Don't make my mistakes."

Lieutenant Cornwall walked up to them and saluted. "Sir, Captain and Mrs Gregg's belongings have been unloaded and I took the liberty of clearing them through customs. I've left a guard on them until you're ready to collect."

"Thank you, lieutenant." He turned back to the couple. "Looks like you're all set to go. See you tomorrow."

With a few more handshakes and salutes, the couple disembarked. Once they got through customs they found Paul waiting for them by their bags.

"Sir," he saluted and then smiled. "I asked Lieutenant Cornwall if it would be all right to stay here with your bags. I wanted to say thank you. You saved my life, and for that I'll always be grateful."

"I'm glad I could help. Just keep an eye on those lashings. I won't be there to warn ya next time!"

"No fear. We won't let that happen again! Mrs Gregg, I didn't get time to meet you properly. I hope at some point that can be remedied. Everyone speaks highly of you."

"Why thank you. I'm sure you would be welcome at Gull Cottage should you find yourself in the area." She looked at the Captain who gave a nod.

"I look forward to it. Have a safe journey home."

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

It took a while to get back to Schooner Bay and was dusk by the time they pulled up at Gull Cottage. Maria, alerted to their imminent arrival, was waiting and the spirit who had looked after the house in the Captain's absence started ferrying their bags and boxes inside the moment the taxi left.

"Mrs… uh, Gregg. I still can't believe it! I got the whole story from Candy when she got back. It's wonderful!"

Carolyn smiled. "I think so too!" She turned back to her husband who was gazing up at the house. "Daniel?"

"Feels like I left here a lifetime ago," he murmured, wonderingly.

"At least. Shall we go in?" She linked her arm through his and together they walked up the steps between the stone lions. There he paused, turned to her and lifted her up in his arms. "Daniel! We've done this already!"

"But this is our real home. Allow me this?"

She kissed his cheek and Maria opened the door so he could carry her inside. The spirit was waiting at the foot of the stairs.

"Good to see you, Daniel. Quite a trip you've had."

"John," he acknowledged, lowering Carolyn to the floor. "Thank you for looking after Gull Cottage for us. Any problems?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle. Claymore still thinks you're here and news of the wedding hasn't yet spread to the town."

"He does a fine impersonation of you, Captain," Maria added with a grin. "Nearly had me convinced a couple of times."

"You managed to keep that article out of the Beacon?" the Captain asked.

"Not hard. That idiot Finley couldn't find his own rear end with both hands and a flash-light." Carolyn giggled and John gave her a grin. "That our resident writer had married the author of The Great Ghost Gregg should have made front page news, but he slept through the wires and I simply arranged for them to disappear. Some Boston reporter tried to do a follow-up but he got a bit… lost."

"Excellent!" the Captain replied, clapping his hands together. "My, the house smells wonderful! What are you cooking, Maria?"

"Had to give you a welcome home dinner. It'll be waiting for you when you come down."

Carolyn started up the stairs but hesitated when the Captain paused at the bottom, running his hand over the figurehead that guarded the foot of the stairs. "Coming up, Daniel?"

"Going to be strange having to walk up the stairs."

"I'm sure a lot of things will feel strange. I won't have to change in the closet any more."

"You know, I could have easily popped in there if I had wanted to. It was no more barred to me than any other part of the house."

"I know. But I also knew you would respect my privacy."

"Of course." He smiled and followed her. When they reached the bedroom he immediately went out onto the balcony while Carolyn changed out of her travel clothes. When she was ready she joined him.

"Still respecting my privacy, Daniel?" she said, wrapping her arm around his waist.

"No," he replied, returning the gesture and planting a kiss on the top of her head. "Just trying to get used to it. In Callahan Castle is was easy because I hadn't been there long enough as a spirit before I was human again. Here…"

"Take your time. It'll be strange for me, too, having a living, breathing man about the house after so long." She paused. "Not that I was alone."

He nodded. "At least we already know one another's routines. That should smooth the way."

"You know mine. You used to disappear for hours or even days on end and I never knew what you were doing."

"Oh," he dismissed airily, "nothing of great import. Sea charts, reading, walks down to the harbour, keeping a lookout on the bridge. Sometimes I just needed some time to myself."

"Sounds like a very lonely existence."

"It was," he replied, softly, smiling down at her, "until you arrived." His voice became louder as he said, "After that, between the noise and Claymore's frequent visits it became a welcome respite."

Carolyn pouted and stuck her tongue out at him. He feigned insult and then grinned, giving her a wink.

"Mrs Gregg?" came Maria's voice from downstairs. "Dinner's on the table."

"Thank you, Maria," Carolyn replied. "We'll be right down."

"You've got some more guests, too."

The Captain frowned. "I didn't see anyone coming up the path."

When they reached the kitchen they found Sean and Rowena helping Maria lay out the last bits of dinner.

"That explains why we didn't see you come in. Hello you two. Have a nice trip?"

"Oh, 'twas glorious. To go through clouds and see the earth from above!" Rowena smiled. "I never coulda imagined such things. Clouds look so solid from the ground, but when ye pass through them they're just heavy mist."

The Captain nodded, pulling out Carolyn's chair and seating her before finding his own place. "Did you sit on the wing?"

"That she did," Sean replied, smiling at his lady. "Couldn't get her off it. She and Sarah were out there nearly the entire flight."

"Sarah? Is she here too?"

"Aye. She wanted ta check out the town so she's gone for a walk with John. He's showin' her the sights, such as they are."

Carolyn smiled. "Well, we don't have a castle, but there's still plenty to see in Schooner Bay."

"Even more for a spirit," the Captain added. "I'm sure John will be showing her all the places denied the public." He handed the meat plate to Carolyn. "My dear?"

"Thank you, Daniel. It looks like once Captain Trace arrives we'll be set to go."

"D'ya mind if I show Rowena the house? Since we'll be stayin' a few days it would help if she got the feel of it so she can pop around."

"Of course," the Captain replied and the two spirits walked out. "Tomorrow should be an interesting day," he continued and then stared at the condiments Maria was laying out. "With beef?" He pointed to the bottle of _Lea and Perrins_.

Maria shrugged. "I don't know what you do with it!"

The Captain shook his head and reached for the horseradish. "Trust me, this is all we need now." He put a healthy dollop on his forkful of food and put it in his mouth. A few seconds later he dropped his knife and fork and quickly reached for his pocket as he turned away, getting the handkerchief to his face just in time to catch the sneeze. Carolyn stared at him. As he wiped his nose he smiled at her a little ruefully. "Horseradish hit. I'd forgotten how strong it is." He rubbed his side, the sudden action having irritated the bruises that were healing but still there. "Have to watch that for a while."

"Thanks for the warning," she said, putting a tiny portion on her own forkful. She chewed thoughtfully. "Hey, that's not bad."

"You see?" he smiled. "The old world still has some things to offer the new."

Maria was shaking her head. "I think I'll stick to the new world, if it's all the same to you."

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Once the dinner was cleared away and coffee made they exited to the front room. When they switched on the light the Captain's eyes alighted on the mantelpiece and a huge smile lit up his face. His painting was still there, but of more import was the fact that beneath it were photographs from the wedding.

Carolyn ran forward to examine the new additions and he quickly followed. "Candy must have picked them up and had them framed. Oh, Daniel. What wonderful photographs!"

He nodded, gazing at the picture in his hand. In it he was standing behind his seated wife, one hand on his sword hilt and the other resting gently on her shoulder.

"I don't remember this one being taken," Carolyn said, and showed him the one she'd picked up. In this the couple were laughing at something and he had his arms wrapped around her from behind, his chin just grazing her shoulder. Carolyn's hand was over his, holding him in place. The photographer had captured the happiness of the couple perfectly.

"Candy picked out the ones she said were the best for show. The others are in the album," Maria said, nodding towards a large, champagne coloured album that rested on the couch. "There are a few in there that would take a bit of explaining to Joe Public." She put the coffee down and gave them a wink.

Curious, the couple sat down, the Captain putting his arm across Carolyn's shoulders as she settled the album on her lap and opened it. Within minutes they could see Maria's point. In amongst the photographs from the official wedding photographer were some that presumably had been taken by either Candy or Jonathan. Both had had their cameras much in evidence after the service. In the foreground, the happy couple who were posing unaware; behind them the spirits, smiling happily.

"I see they didn't spoil these ones," Carolyn observed, turning the pages slowly so they could take their time remembering the day.

"Spirits can be captured on film, but only if they wish to be," he assured her.

"It seems they wished it very much."

"I can see why they're not on show," he laughed, pointing to one in which Katriona and Daniel were floating above the other guests at the reception, dancing.

"Um hmm. Think we'd better keep this in our room."

"Must've been one helluva wedding," Maria said, walking back in. "Sorry I missed it."

"We're sorry too, Maria," Carolyn said, "but we couldn't leave the place without someone watching it. You know what Claymore's like."

"Don't I just? Until John made it quite clear he was neither needed nor wanted he was around nearly every day."

"I trust John stayed out of your way?" the Captain said as Carolyn turned another page.

"He was the perfect gentleman. I gather he was a shipmate of yours?"

"Um hmm. I did a couple of years on a whaler. He was my harpoon man. Deadly shot."

"Daniel! You killed whales?"

"In those days we had a different attitude, my dear, and whaling was lucrative if dangerous. He and I became firm friends."

"What happened to him?"

"We found our own Moby Dick. It was a stupid accident. He had already planted two harpoons, but with the third the rope snagged around his ankle and he was pulled overboard. When the whale sank below the waves he was dragged down with it and by the time we landed it, he had drowned. That was why I gave up whaling. He was a dear friend and I didn't care to lose any more."

"I'm sorry you lost your friend, Daniel, but I'm glad you gave up whaling."

"They are remarkable beasts. When I became a spirit I encountered a few. Of course, they weren't happy with me to start with but I made my apologies. They tell incredible stories."

"You _talk_ to them?"

He nodded. "As a spirit there are fewer boundaries between man and beast. Of course, they can always see us but the higher order animals have quite complex language and social structures. Whales can tell yarns that would make even the greatest seafarer sit up and pay attention. There's one that visits Schooner Bay every few years." There was a wistful note in his voice as he added, "I shall miss him."

"Not only Captain Gregg, the hero of Vera Cruz, but Doctor Dolittle too."

"Doctor who?"

"Different show. Once you get your ship I'm sure you can go out and see him. Perhaps he'll recognise you?"

"He will, but I won't be able to talk to him any more. A pity."

"I'm afraid you're going to miss being a spirit," she said, worried that there might not be enough to replace the positives of the Captain's erstwhile existence.

"There will be some things I will certainly miss, but there are other advantages to being human," he replied and squeezed her shoulders. She smiled up at him and he took the opportunity to kiss her.

"And on that note," Maria said, seeing she was no longer needed, "I'm going to bed. I've locked up so no worries there. Captain, I'm not used to cooking for you. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Your usual will be fine, Maria, but if you could make me a pot of Irish tea that would be most welcome. With boiling water," he added, fully aware that Americans had a tendency to use hot rather than boiling water with tea, which in part explained its utter tastelessness, "and three bags in that pot." He nodded towards the new teapot on the counter.

"You're the expert," she allowed. "Good night." She headed out and then paused. "By the way, Captain, can I say how lovely it is to have you here in the flesh? I know things are going to get very interesting around here."

"Thank you, Maria. I hope by interesting you do not mean in the Chinese curse sense?"

"I think that will depend on what happens tomorrow."

"It will indeed," he agreed.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

"Good morning, Claymore," Carolyn said cheerfully as she walked into his office in Schooner Bay.

"Mrs Muir! I thought you'd gone," he replied, quickly covering some paperwork on his desk.

"Now why would I do that? I've been paying the rental cheques and I know you cashed them."

"Well, yes, but you've been gone so long I thought that was, um…"

She sat down, a sweet smile on her face. "You thought what?"

Taking the bull by the horns Claymore decided to plunge in. "Mrs Muir, do you realise I haven't been allowed to raise the rent on Gull Cottage for the past five years? 'You know who' has refused and I'm losing money here. The land is now worth far more than I could ever recoup in rent."

"Yes, I know. Quite the prime site. Captain Gregg had a good eye for property values."

"He did, but now he's not letting me get them. This can't go on."

"I agree, which is why I'm here."

"It is?"

"I want to discuss with you my acquiring the rights to Gull Cottage."

"You do? I mean, you do! That's wonderful! I take it you managed to get a book deal while you were in Ireland?"

"No," she said, still smiling.

"Oh, well, did someone die and leave you some money? My condolences."

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "No, Claymore. Everyone who matters to me is extremely well. Better than ever, in fact." She placed her bag on her lap.

"Oh, well, as you point out, Gull Cottage is a prime location, so it won't be cheap."

"Oh, I won't be buying it. I said 'acquire' the rights, not buy them." She opened her bag and withdrew a bottle of water.

"I don't understand."

"Claymore, I'd like you to meet my husband."

"Your h..husband? But you're a widow." He lowered his voice and cupped a hand around his mouth. "Don't tell me he's come back from the grave?" The thought of two ghosts at Gull Cottage was rather more than he could bear.

"No," she replied patiently, unscrewing the water bottle, "I mean my new husband."

"You got married? Well, in that case, congratulations. Is it anyone I know?"

"In a manner of speaking." She nodded to the door. Claymore looked up to see Captain Gregg, arms folded, scowling at him.

"Oooh. Go away! Don't you think I have enough trouble without you standing in the doorway? Mrs… um…?"

"Gregg," she provided.

"Mrs Gregg's husband will be here any moment and…" He blinked and stared at Carolyn. "Gregg? Did I marry you? I'm sure I would have remembered that."

"No, Claymore. It's not you."

"Then who? Is he outside?"

"No, you dunderhead!" the Captain thundered. "You're looking at him!"

Claymore jumped. "Y..You? But… but you can't marry him! He's a ghost!"

The Captain walked across the room and leaned over Claymore. "Do I look dead to you?" he growled.

"You never look dead. That's the problem. Ghosts should be see-through and covered in a sheet or something, but you're still dead."

The Captain placed his hand over Claymore's, gripping it hard. "Guess again."

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

The bottle of water proved useful, as predicted. Once he was conscious again the Captain lifted Claymore back into his chair, none too gently.

"I'm asleep. This is a nightmare," Claymore muttered, pinching himself.

"For you it is," the Captain agreed, "But I promise you that you are wide awake."

"This is one of those dreams you give us, isn't it? Y…Y…You're just trying to stop me using the eviction notice on Mrs Muir!"

"What eviction notice?"

When Claymore self-consciously leaned across the papers on his desk the Captain reached down, lifted the shaking man's arm and snatched them out, reading them over quickly. "Why you sneaky, underhanded, two-faced…"

"It's all legal. The rent is no longer fair and since Mrs Muir, I mean Gregg, I mean… whatever. Since she's not paying market value and won't allow me to raise it, I'm entitled to evict her."

"And are you planning on trying to evict me as well?"

"Well… now you're… you're…"

"The term is… alive," the Captain supplied, over-enunciating the word carefully.

"Yes, that. Now you're that you can't hurt me." His face suddenly cleared as a thought occurred to him. "I can have you arrested!" He stood up, suddenly finding a courage that had always been lacking when faced with the ghost of the man in front of him.

"Oh?" the Captain said, raising an eyebrow and folding his arms. "On what charge?"

"You can't be Captain Gregg. You're impersonating him. Captain Gregg is dead, ergo you're an imposter. I can have you arrested for false representation and making demands with menaces!"

Captain Trace, who had been listening outside, now stepped in. He took his cap off and put it under his arm before striding forward. "Captain Gregg, Carolyn. Lovely to see you."

"Captain Trace," Carolyn nodded. "So, you decided to take us up on our offer?"

The Captain smiled to himself. Considering this had all been planned over a late breakfast that morning, the performance was Emmy worthy.

"A stay in Schooner Bay? How could I say no?" He turned to Claymore. "And you must be Daniel's relative."

"Distant relative. Very, very distant," the Captain muttered.

"Captain Mark Trace of the USS Hornet," he introduced himself.

"Claymore Gregg, at your service, sir." He offered Trace his hand, "but I'm afraid you've been lied to. This man is NOT Captain Gregg."

"Oh? So you're telling me the man who saved a schooner from sinking in the middle of an Atlantic squall while I watched from my bridge is **not** Captain Gregg?"

"N..N..No, sir. He's an imposter!"

"And what makes you say that?"

"Captain Gregg was my ancestor. He's been dead for over a hundred and twenty years. There is no other Captain Gregg, I would know if there were, so this man is an imposter." He turned to the Captain, snapping his fingers in front of the face of his nemesis. "Ha!"

"Claymore," Carolyn interrupted gently. She handed over an envelope.

"Before you even think of ripping them up, those are copies," the Captain added. "The originals are already lodged with the courts."

Trace nodded. "Did it myself on my way here."

Claymore was reading over the documents that made it clear the man standing in front of him was a direct descendent of Captain Daniel Gregg and had the same name. "This is impossible!" he muttered. "You're him, but you're not him. But you know me!"

"Oh, yes, Claymore. I know you." The Captain's voice seemed to drop an octave, filling the room.

"But you _are_ him! You can't be! How can you be alive? How…?"

"That is irrelevant. The fact is, I am the legal heir to the entire Gregg estate. **All** of it."

With his entire fortune now at risk, Claymore rediscovered his courage and leapt to his feet. "No! I'll fight you. I'll prove you're a fraud. And… and if you're here, then there's no longer a ghost at Gull Cottage. I can tear it down! Ha! There's nothing you can do to stop me. I could have a digger out there by this afternoon!" He stomped his foot.

Sean, who had been watching the entire thing invisibly since Carolyn walked in, now appeared, dressed identically to the Captain. "No ghost at Gull Cottage, eh?" he said, impersonating his double flawlessly. "I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you!"

"Oh no. On no! There are **two** of you?!"

The Captain smiled. "It's your lucky day, Claymore."

Trace nodded to Sean. "Captain. Good to see you."

"Y…you see him too?"

"He sees me because I will it!" Sean said, maintaining the Captain's persona.

"Yes. The Captain and I have had quite a few chats," Trace informed the quivering man. "Quite the seaman and a true hero."

"You wouldn't say that if you'd had to work with him," Claymore muttered, collapsing back into his chair. "See this?" he added, his voice louder as he pointed to his now bald head. "All due to him! All of it!"

"Saving you money at the barbers. You should be grateful."

Carolyn lowered her head to hide the smile. Sean really was doing a wonderful job.

"As you can see, Claymore, you're backed into a corner. I am the direct descendent of my illustrious ancestor," he motioned to Sean who bowed, "and I can take every single penny you have stolen from his estate."

"I didn't steal it! It's mine!"

"Not any more." He scowled until the man was thoroughly cowed. "However, because I am a generous man – unlike you, you snivelling fish bait – I am going to throw you a lifeline."

"You are?"

"I will allow you to keep the bulk of the estate _provided_ you give me all the rights to Gull Cottage and its associated estate and contents."

"And if you don't," Sean added, "I will move from Gull Cottage and haunt you for the rest of your days!"

Having Captain Gregg in stereo was proving too much. Captain Trace decided to deliver the coup de grâce. "And as a senior officer of the United States Navy, I can witness the transfer so it will stand up in any court in the land."

All four looked at Claymore.

"Well?" the Captain asked, pleasantly.

He passed out.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

The Captain, Sean and Trace all checked the paperwork thoroughly to ensure there were no hidden clauses while Carolyn excused herself… ostensibly to grab some coffees, in fact because if she'd stayed in there another minute she'd have been falling about on the floor. It occurred to her she really needed to invest in one of those new video cameras to record the 'Captain and Sean' double act for Candy and Jonathan. It really had been the most entertaining morning she had ever spent in Schooner Bay. With the paperwork signed Gull Cottage would be theirs and, since the seaman's home had already been taken care of years before, left to Jonathan and Candy when the time came.

She stood for a moment, overlooking the harbour. It was a bright, cloudless day and the trawlers and fishing boats provided a colourful mix of bobbing patterns in the water. Now Claymore had seen the ghost of Captain Gregg standing alongside her husband there could be no argument regarding Blair's claim at the wedding, 'though she still wanted to know where that had come from. With the name change it was easy to forget Daniel was supposedly an Irish writer so his accent wouldn't cause any problems, and Daniel could impersonate Sean flawlessly if anyone questioned and then claim he had decided to channel his ancestor from now on – an eccentricity that would soon be accepted in this undeniably eccentric town. Daniel's ability to re-create ghostly effects meant he could reinforce Gull Cottage's haunted reputation should the need arise, and Sean could drop by instantly should Claymore need a reminder. There was still the matter of her appearance, but it had occurred to her that film companies used ageing make-up all the time. A little training was all that was required and she should be able to create a mask for those rare occasions Daniel wasn't near enough to enforce the illusion. She was wealthy, had the man of her dreams for a husband, her wonderful house and a long life ahead of her.

She took a deep breath and smiled when she saw Daniel and Trace leave Claymore's office. Sean appeared behind them, waved and then winked out, presumably to return to Rowena who was back at the cottage. The two mortal men were laughing and patting each other on the back. When they reached her, Daniel handed her the paperwork which she quickly folded away into her bag.

"All done?"

"All done," the Captain confirmed. She turned to look out at the bay and he wrapped his arms around her. "And soon there will be a ship out there that will belong to us.

"One I look forward to training on," Trace said. "I still think you should consider the naval school."

"In time, perhaps. You know you and your crew will always be welcome whatever happens." He gave Carolyn a squeeze, then turned to Trace. "Thank you, Captain. For everything."

"I did very little."

"You gave me the idea, and I think turning up in your full uniform was a nice touch. Claymore always was intimidated by authority figures."

"I must say, that was a thoroughly enjoyable meeting," Trace agreed, chuckling, "but when we get back to Gull Cottage do you mind if I change? This is supposed to be my leave!"

"Captain," replied Carolyn, "you can do whatever you want. Our home," and she looked at her husband, who smiled and nodded, "is your home."

As they walked along the harbour, the Captain and Carolyn holding hands, she noticed quite a few of the ladies of Schooner Bay watching them. "Daniel, can we take a detour?"

"Where to?"

"The offices of the Schooner Bay Beacon. I need to put an announcement in the paper."

"Oh?"

She smiled. "I think it's time we let the town know that the author and sea captain Daniel Sean Gregg has married Mrs Carolyn Muir and taken possession of Gull Cottage."

※※※

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End


End file.
